


Is This The World That We Created

by DebsTheSlytherinSnapeFan



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: End of the World, F/M, M/M, Not For Scott Fans!, Supernatural revelation, Time Travel Fix-It, time-travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-22
Updated: 2020-07-06
Packaged: 2020-07-10 18:14:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 59,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19910050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DebsTheSlytherinSnapeFan/pseuds/DebsTheSlytherinSnapeFan
Summary: The world ended with the revelation of the supernatural world, everyone branded together to survive, but Harry wants everyone to more than just survive...especially when he begins to feel more than just apathy for the first time in years. The Nemeta gives him reason to make one last ditch effort to change everything.Scott McCall had best watch out.





	1. Chapter 1

Is This The World We Created? 

Chapter 1 

Just look at all those hungry mouths we have to feed  
Take a look at all the suffering we breed  
So many lonely faces scattered all around  
Searching for what they need

The supernatural creatures huddled together, moving behind the wizard who they were trusting to take them to safety. Each of them could tell that he was being honest, but trusting anyone these days…was never a good idea. However, if they couldn’t trust another Supe’ who could they trust? Plus, they’d heard of sanctuaries being built up all over the USA. They didn’t know where they were though, but word had spread, before the amenities had gone off, electricity, gas, internet, the world had ended with the revelation of the supernatural world. At least those with contacts had caught wind, and it gave them all hope that this wasn’t the end for them. 

The sight of sanctuary was a welcoming sight for them all, as the starving finally received something substantial in their bellies for the first time in months. All were welcome, all were expected to follow the rules, and all knew what happened should you break the rules. 

Safety was the priority here, and nobody wished to break it. 

The Supe’s cursed Scott McCall to the deepest pits of hell. 

Is this the world we created?  
What did we do it for  
Is this the world we invaded  
Against the law  
So it seems in the end  
Is this what we're all living for today

Not that there was much to see from Sanctuary, he thought, gazing out along the field to the edge of the sanctuary, where there was nothing but fire, ash, smog and buildings that looked like they came out of a warzone, also something accurate. The all-out war between the supernatural and the hunters – all humans were referred to as hunters now – was still ongoing and bloody. 

Three long years, it had been since the first news broadcast about werewolves and the rest of the supernatural world, and everything that followed all the creatures they thought of as myth suddenly real and the supernatural world exposed to such an extent that with even every magical government coming together hadn’t been able to put a stop to it. It had spread to fast, all around the world, mass exposure with the likes the supernatural world feared, only envisioned in their worst nightmares. 

Only nobody was asleep. Their worst nightmares were now their reality. 

Scott McCall was an abomination, and they’d have killed him if they could. 

The world that we created  
You know that everyday a helpless child is born  
Who needs some loving care inside a happy home  
Somewhere a wealthy man is sitting on his throne  
Waiting for life to go by

“Come, we need to get those children checked out,” he said, eyes considerably softening upon gazing at the babies. Merlin, he thanked Merlin he had found them in time, any later and he would have been too late, found more bodies of young children (Or worse babies) murdered just because of what they were…story of their lives. “You’re entire pack can come, it’s a big ward,” knowing better than to think for a moment that the Alpha would let the Alpha mate and his cub leave his side. And the Alpha would feel considerably better with his pack close at hand. There were only eight of them in total, rundown, nigh on exhausted, but at least no longer starving having filled their bellies. 

“Do…do you know any…way that we might find out who has survived?” the Alpha mate’s voice was vulnerable and grief stricken, “Other packs maybe?” she’d married into her pack, leaving her family, her birth pack behind, oh she visited, called, e-mailed, but when this shitshow started…she’d lost contact with them all and she feared they all died. “There are other sanctuaries right? Not just this one if we can’t find anyone?” They were quite close to where it had all been exposed, California, Beacon Hills, that cursed town. Her pack had been on the east coast before all this, so quite a bit farther away. 

The Alpha closed his eyes, claws unsheathing at the uselessness he felt, unable to give his wife, his mate the solace and comfort she needed. 

“There’s markers, plaques, names, packs…the lot, one for people remembering those who have passed…the other for those surviving in sanctuary in hopes of finding out if family and friends survived.” Was solemnly explained, the crying of the cubs had him speaking again, “I will have someone show you to them once the babies have been seen to.”

The alpha wished desperately to have Scott McCall’s heart’s beating wrapped around his claws and pull it from his chest. 

Wooh, is this the world we created?  
We made it all our own  
Is this the world we devastated, right to the bone

As one everyone cried out as the earth rumbled dangerously around them, jarring them all so completely that some fell, the Were’s were able to help a few, and remain standing themselves. Explosion after explosion ran in sync the sound grating on their ears and fears. 

As one they hurriedly made their way outside of the building, fearing that the building would be brought down. Outside, but still safely within sanctuary, they watched helplessly as more clouds plumed the sky, as more bombs were detonated, crying out when debris came soaring in their direction, but the debris stopped and slid along the wards, the large dome visible until every single last piece of stone, wood and other unmentionable things slid down to the edge of the wards. 

Harry watched the scene in front of him, his mouth a grim line, as he stared so utterly tired by the destruction around him. How many supernatural’s had been killed this time? How many humans were being killed off each day in this never ending war to eradicate them? 

Scott McCall and the McCall pack were an anathema. 

If there's a God in the sky looking down  
What can he think of what we've done  
To the world that he created

How was it that one boy had so successfully managed to destroy the world? He would never understand how anyone could be so careless. 

\------0

I'm serious Scott fans turn back now! And the song (as I'm sure many of you know) is - Is This The World We Created by Queen I find it quite fitting and it will fit in the ending too ;) so, pairing I dont have any at the moment...Peter/Harry or Deucalion/Harry...although to be fair I dont find the actor particulary attractive (no offence blonde doesn't do it for me) so, even if it wins and I decide not to that will have to be that I'm afraid! Stiles will have a big part to play in the story too! SO will they go back and end up with two Stiles'? or do you all hate when that happens? Harry's the MOD he can do whatever he likes :P If you can think of someone else not Peter or Duke leave a comment! R&R please let me know if you'd like to see it continued! Not sure what people will think of it!


	2. Chapter 2

Is This The World We Created 

Chapter 2 

Peter Hale blasted is way back into the old office building they were using as their own at the moment. It used to be the old newspaper offices for Beacon Country if he recalled correctly. Six years of being hunted and familiar landscapes being reduced to dust sort of screwed with ones perception of what they remember. 

He very quickly and as quietly as possible, closed it again, watching as the runes glowed, keeping them safe as the wards could manage. “How is he?” making his way back towards Derek’s side, who was tending to the sick human in their little pack. In the six years they’d been on the move, Stiles hadn’t gotten sick once, not even a cough or the sniffles. 

“He’s still burning up,” Derek growled low in his throat, he’d never felt more useless in his life, well that wasn’t true, but he digresses. He hated not knowing what to do to help his mate. 

“This might help,” Peter plonked the cold water in the metal container normally used to hold tea, coffee or hot chocolate. Certainly not water from an unclean source outside. Fortunately, Stiles wasn’t going to be drinking it, there was plenty of drinking water available. The had the watercoolers still available, he guessed nobody had thought to grab them. There was also quite a few vending machines that still had food. Cora had done a little digging and found the actual source of the vending machines supplies. 

Derek grabbed the thermos, feeling the coolness, he poured it over the scrap of material that used to be a t-shirt he found a year ago. Plastering the cold material over Stiles forehead, trying to refrain from touching him. He was too hot, the last thing he needed was to be warmer with wolf regulating body heat. Which went against every single instinct he had both as a man and wolf. He just wanted to curl up around Stiles until he was well again. 

Peter looked around the still intact offices, all the cubicles, “Derek…have you checked all the desks?” an idea striking him, cursing himself for not thinking of it sooner. Hearing the door creak, but one sniff had him relaxing his entire focus on Derek. 

“What? Why?” Derek asked, frowning as he too stared around, before realization dawned, “They’d keep medication at work.” He wanted to slap himself for being so utterly stupid. Maybe, just maybe something that would actually help Stiles recover or at the very least get his temperature down. 

“I’ll help,” Isaac said, from the door way as he made sure the door closed and runes activated before he walked away. His arms filled with wood, which he plonked next to a barrel that was currently only smoking a little, Isaac added more wood, warming the room up to a bearable temperature. Not for body heat, or rather not just for body heat, werewolves needed it too, but for cooking. He noticed Peter had found some rabbits, thank the moon, it had been so long since they had something proper to eat. Nothing that would satisfy his wolf unfortunately, but what can you do? 

Derek took the rabbits from Peter, “Thanks,” he murmured, knowing Peter had only risked going for the rabbits and water was because it was for Stiles he wouldn’t have gone for anyone else, other than another Hale. In other words as much as a pack as they may be, Peter wouldn’t risk his life for say Isaac, Liam or Chris. 

A proper meal was needed when he was that sick, and rabbits…like cockroaches would probably outlast the war between humanity and the supernatural. So there was still an abundance of them if you knew where to look and were quick enough to catch them, and if you could avoid hunters. Unsheathing his claws, he begun to absently skin the rabbits, so that he could get to the decent parts, the edible parts. He could do it in his sleep, it was one of the things he’d learned as a kid, how to hunt, they were his fondest memories of times before the fire. 

“You’re welcome,” Peter said solemnly, Stiles had been saving their necks for six years now, using magic, despite the betrayals they’d all suffered…he’d remained strong and absolute. It would have probably been easier to leave them all behind and make it on his own. Especially since some druids had actually joined the hunters, even a spark…had, and Stiles had rendered him to pieces with extreme prejudice. A novice had ripped apart an experienced spark, it had been a…glorious sight, he was still convinced Stiles would have made a magnificent wolf. So, the least he could do was get him something proper to eat, during daylight, risky, especially if they were seen, but needs a must, Stiles needed to eat. He knew Stiles would do the same for him, the rest of the pack would as a matter of fact, they had grown closer in the six years since it went to hell, well, more than the hellmouth that was Beacon Hills was. 

With that Peter sauntered towards the offices, starting at the opposite end of Isaac’s current location. Each cubicle was inspected for any and all things they could use. There was a surprising number of Aspirin, was it normal for humans to need it so much? Each of the packages were different, from different companies, and headache cures? Ibuprofen even paracetamol and stronger pain killers – or what he assumed was painkillers – he wasn’t human and had never had to worry or care about human medications. 

“Here, get Stiles to swallow these, it will bring his temperature down and make him feel better,” Isaac made his way over to Derek, having got what he wanted. “If he doesn’t swallow them, crunch them up and make a paste, it will dissolve on his tongue and taste awful but it’s better than not taking it.” the long blonde haired werewolf said, his long blonde curly locks were tied in a pony tail all the time, greasy and dirty looking but what could one do? It wasn’t as if they had baths they could use.

Derek automatically nodded, trusting Isaac’s word, sure, he’d had humans in his pack, but they’d been adults, they’d been more than capable of taking care of themselves even when sick. He’d never had to worry about them as an adult, teens were self-absorbed and rarely worried about anything unless it involved themselves. There was no denying he’d been self-absorbed. Abandoning his work, he dunked his hands into the water Cora had just brought in causing her to scowl. Bad enough they were going out during the day without having to do it twice. 

Crouching down over Stiles, he sat down, Stiles resting above his leg, raising his neck a little more, he tried to get Stiles to swallow the tiny little pills, but he wasn’t having any of it. For some reason he just ended up being sick, which perplexed Derek, he hadn’t even swallowed them why would they make him sick? He was of course, completely unaware of the abhorrent taste that lingered upon taking medication. In his frustration he crushed the tiny pills in his hands and used clean water to get the medication like Isaac suggested until it was sludge in his hand before ensuring it went into Stiles’ mouth. 

Once that was done he got Stiles comfortable on the makeshift pillow and his leather jacket over him. The door opening heralded the last of their pack joining them. Although, nine years ago it would have made them all laugh derisively, after all there was no way that Chris Argent would ever be considered pack. 

Chris let everything he had fall to the ground in relief, as he waited for the runes to glow, flexing and stretching out, getting rid of all the kinks, while Liam silently padded over to Derek and laid what he had on the ground beside Stiles. “You notice it’s taking longer for the runes to flash that they’re working?” Chris’ voice was low and sombre as he picked everything back up. He didn’t need to raise his voice, everyone would hear him, and the only other human in the pack was out for the count. 

Unsurprisingly it was Peter who replied, “Yes,” and it wasn’t in a nonconsequential manner either, it was a pensive tone, which indicated that he was just a second away from being concerned. When Peter got concerned, then there was definitely something wrong. 

Chris’ head snapped up, staring at Peter intently, out of them all, Peter knew the most about magic with the obvious exception being Stiles. They poured over what books they had, constantly bettering everything they did to keep themselves safe. Peter was the only one able to keep up with Stiles when he went on long Tangents and discussions about magic. They left everyone in the dust when they began having heated debates. “What do you think is happening?” he trotted over to the others, keeping an ear out for Peter who was digging through drawers at the other side of the room. 

“It might just have something to do with Stiles being sick,” Peter answered, and his tone booked no father conversation being open for discussion. Peter glanced out the window, but not really observing the sorry state the world was in, no, he was quite frankly worried that the last conversation he and Stiles had while the others had hunted for food was coming true, he’d wandered off before coming back his posture one of defeated wariness. He’d never managed to get it out of the boy, he’d remained as stubborn as a mule. 

‘If that starts happening, you take Derek and the others and you leave me, do you get it?’ Stiles insisted from where they were both sat on upturned trees. ‘I have no idea what will happen to me or my magic, I could end up killing all of you and I don’t want that’ 

Peter shook his head, glancing over at the others, having collected everything usable from the drawers. Absently, picking up the two bins now filled with different medications, praying that this was just some sort of illness and Stiles would be just fine. Especially considering he didn’t know what had caused the abrupt change in Stiles, he just wouldn’t say. Now he wasn’t capable of it. 

Despite the fact Chris wasn’t a werewolf, he could see just how worried Peter actually was. Isaac, Cora and Derek could sense it and couldn’t help but glance at Peter in concern, as he made his way back over just as Chris spilled out the contents in the tough black bags and the burlap sack over his shoulder. The course material had left his neck red and irritated. “Here, these should fit you,” with that Chris handed over a new set of clothing to Peter, then Derek, Cora and Isaac respectively. Liam already had his new clothes on. They were brand new, still in the packages, he must have gone as far as the shops to get these. He’d taken a hell of a risk, the hunters were out in droves, it was daylight. He left a set for Stiles beside his feet. 

“You actually found food?” Isaac whisper/shouted gleefully, as he grinned at the sight of the tins, stews, beans, soups, spaghetti, vegetables and he even had a lot of fresh fruit and vegetables tucked away in one of those bags, a vegetable garden? Wondering idly if he’d taken it from hunters or humans who were just trying to survive without taking part in the war. 

Chris smiled, giving Isaac a nod, he had been begged by Melissa and Noah to return to Beacon Hills back in the day. After leaving for France with Isaac, they’d been trying to find a new pack for him, unfortunately, being with an Argent, Isaac wasn’t trusted. So, they’d been wasting their time, but it gave Chris something to do so he had continued on his mission to find somewhere for Isaac. It was something he believed Allison would have wanted of him. Then came the phone call, both Melissa and Noah worried about Scott’s control and his steadfast belief that he was right, he wouldn’t listen to anyone, not Stiles, not Kira, not even him in the end, although it had been calls on his end until the exposure. 

Then one day he’d woken up to a televised showing of what his life was, the supernatural exposed. He’d assumed that it would be written off as a prank, but no, Scott continued to interact with the novice hunters who were setting him up, exposing the supernatural fully, despite all warnings. The werewolf population suddenly went under, so to try to do damage control, he’d gone to Beacon Hills, to deal with the hunters all too late, as the world went to hell around them. 

Stupid idiotic humans who didn’t realize – or maybe they did – what they were doing by exposing the supernatural world for all to see. He liked to think they didn’t want this, but in hearts of hearts, Chris didn’t think anyone could possibly see it going any other way other than an all out war. Humans, Chris thought, he’d just called them humans, as if he wasn’t one. Inhaling sharply, he’d been spending too much time with Peter. 

He and Stiles were the only humans in this little pack, even if he wanted to be a werewolf – which he didn’t – he couldn’t become one. None of this little pack were Alpha’s, they were all Beta’s and all of them had blue eyes, all had killed to survive. Isaac had been…inconsolable, after his first kill, and it had broken something in Chris when he realized to himself, that a blue eyed Beta didn’t mean ruthless killer. Until that moment he’d always believed it, always. Some prejudice he supposed had been deeply ingrained. 

Pressing his hand against Stiles forehead, worried about his feverish state, it felt bad, if he continued at this rate they’d need to get him to a pool of water and dunk him under it. To try and cool him down completely, he noticed the boxes of medication, hopefully it would bring his temperature down. shivering in cold, he stood up and moved over to the barrel and tried to warm himself up. What he wouldn’t do for a warm shower or bath…he thought to himself silently. 

\-------0 

Once everyone was settled down for the night, Derek grabbed Peter and got them both out of the building. Making sure the door was closed properly, and that there were no hunters in the vicinity, before both lobbed themselves over the building crouching down, and keeping an ariel eye on the world around them. 

“Peter…tell me what’s going on,” Derek demanded his voice low, too low for any human to hear him, but a werewolf heard him loud and clear. “This is my mate I deserve to know,” his face pained, he knew Peter was hiding something, he knew his uncle well. “Uncle Peter…please,” he added, and could see his uncle crumbling as the worries he was harbouring grew too great for him to keep to himself. 

Peter sat himself down, looking around, his eyes supernatural blue, before he settled again for the moment, “I honestly don’t know, Derek,” Peter replied truthfully, “Stiles…wandered away from the group while everyone was hunting in the preserve a week ago. When he returned…he looked…haunted,” 

Derek’s entire face contorted into a deep frown, “He was quieter that night, but at the same time…more tactile than normal.” Which said a lot since Stiles shamelessly used their naturally higher body heat to keep warm. 

“I tried to get out of him what was bothering him, his scent…it had curdled,” which had been unpleasant to say the least. “But what he said to me…had me trying to get the information out of him with greater urgency. Regretfully, you know Stiles, stubborn as a blasted mule.” And Peter didn’t handle failure well, he wasn’t used to failing. Unfortunately, he couldn’t remain angry at Stiles…not that he had a chance. 

“What did he say?” Derek croaked out, fear and worry getting the better of him. not that these feelings were new, he experienced them on a day to day basis, but he was able to find some happiness with Stiles, and the thought of losing it…he didn’t think he’d survive that. He had chosen Stiles as his mate, werewolves had…potential mates, some had dozens over the course of their lives, while others didn’t find a single potential one. Like Peter, he hadn’t come across a single potential mate in his life, while Derek had come across quite a few, in the end he’d ended up mercy killing his first one, his second one had killed his family and well, the third wasn’t real, Stiles upon turning eighteen had lit up like a beacon for Derek. It had taken longer for him to even contemplate Stiles, not because he didn’t care…but because he wasn’t used to things he wanted turning out right. 

“He told me to take you and the others and leave him behind,” Peter stated simply, “That he has no idea what would become of him and his magic.” 

“What do you think he meant?” Derek pressed out, “Is this sickness not just a fever? Is it something more? A magical sickness?” he hated not knowing and he was angry that Stiles had made it so. angry that he’d think for a moment he would want to leave Stiles behind. He’d rather die with him than survive with a hole in his heart. 

“I don’t know, Derek, I just don’t know,” Peter confessed bitterly. He didn’t know what it meant for Stiles, for them, for their immediate future. He could only pray that Stiles was just simply suffering from a cold or the flu that most humans recover from without much trouble. 

With that silence enveloped the two remaining Male Hales, as they lost themselves to their thoughts. Guarding over their current hideout. They’d come back to Beacon Hills simply because they thought to outwit the hunters, nobody in their right mind would surely think they’re return to Beacon Hills after all? Plus, there weren’t many buildings left standing to explode, and surely they had run out of bombs, since they hadn’t heard any explosions for a long, long time now. The days blurred into one another, he couldn’t tell you exactly how many days had gone by since he’d last heard the thundering blasts of bombs being detonated all over. 

They obsessively checked over the runes to make sure they were still working. 

\----0 

One week later 

“Ready to go?” a voice from the door startled Harry as he worked away, the entire room was dotted with information he had gained over the past six years since the world went to hell. Ever since Scott McCall had caused the revelation of the supernatural world and exposed everyone and everything. That information was a timeline, information he had gotten from everyone that ended up here in Sanctuary. It was unfortunate that most of the information was mere rumours and speculation. There wasn’t a lot of information that was definitive. 

The werewolf watched Harry patiently, he was very different from the very first time he saw him three years ago. He had long braided brown hair down his back. A white vest with a pair of leather trousers plastered to his hips. Lithe, toned and with muscle accumulated over the years. If he wasn’t in love with his wife – who he mated – he would have thought Harry was a perfect specimen really. Werewolves had no hang ups about sexual orientations, they liked who they liked, guided more by scent than looks. He was perfect even with the scars that adorned his arms and back from various fights throughout the years. 

He was a warrior, an Alpha really despite the fact his eyes never changed. Albeit a tired one. You could see the strain in every sinew of his body. He was tired, they all were, but they trudged on, survival of the species, quite fitting words really. He was a wizard, a magical practitioner, and it was thanks to him and those like him, that he and his pack had made it to sanctuary. He was lucky, he freely acknowledged that, all those in sanctuary were lucky. 

“Yeah,” Harry murmured standing up, stretching out, “How is Patricia?” 

Marcus winced, just remembering the sound of agonising pain she was enduring. It was Deja vu all over again really. “She’s settled down, we took as much pain as we were able.” 

They’d found her practically dead, not yet feral, with arrows protruding out of her chest a week ago. To make matters worse? She’d been blinded by flashbang arrows in an earlier attack leaving her very vulnerable. It was like taking candy from a baby really. The arrows had been removed and wolfsbane flushed from her system. The process of correcting her eyesight however…was different and painful. The potion had to be dripped into her eyes, once a day for over a week before it would correct her sight. They knew because she wasn’t the first recipient of such a process. Flashbang arrows was one of the most popular ways to deal with werewolves. It sickened him to the core, one of his own Beta’s had undergone the procedure, his second, had taken the hit to protect his pregnant mate, the Alpha mate. It was thanks to him that his mate had survived to give birth to their son. He’d lost his sight in the process, for over a year until Harry had appeared out of nowhere and helped the pack make it to safety. 

“Samuel is with her.” His second. The one who was very familiar with the process and the one he had named his son after, although he was called Sammy by the entire pack. 

“Good,” Harry said, absently making sure he had his wand upon his person, grabbing the bag that had a whole slew of different things in it in case he needed it. He slung it over his shoulder, and wandered out of his bedroom/office. He had the Master suite, considering the property was actually his, there had been no complaints. “Then let’s go,” 

As soon as they were outside the building but not sanctuary, Marcus’ eyes blazing red as he stared ahead, able to see better with his supernatural sight. They went out every fourteen days, to check on the beacons, every single one of them, to make sure they were okay. It was also where supernatural creatures would gravitate towards. Considering it had been six years since it all started, they didn’t find a whole slew of people anymore. They were leaving to check on the Beacons. 

The beacons were actually trees, Nemeta, a Nemeton. Contrary to popular belief, there weren’t just seven in total although only seven were connected to the Telluric current. There were in total fifteen Nemeta in the United States of America. Many had been hidden by the magical world, so that no Muggle could see them, let alone approach. So the hunters wouldn’t have known about them, although they no longer remembered them, Harry had ensured that. 

Magic was dying, these Beacons were all that was left to keep the world’s magic population going, the supernatural world going. When the Nemeta begun to die…the rest of the world would follow for without magic the muggles wouldn’t survive, ironic really. Magic was vital to the planet’s survival. All this global warming…the back and forth on whether it was real or not all came down to misunderstood information…they didn’t see the binding element. Magic. 

“Ready?” he asked, already waiting to be apparated. 

Harry didn’t even startle, “Yes,” his voice deep and resonating, it was the voice of an alpha despite the fact he most definitely wasn’t one. Made sense really, an Alpha was a leader, and he wasn’t the only one with a sanctuary for the supernatural. He’d helped set up dozens all over America and Britain before beginning his own here in New Orleans. 

Harry barely glanced at the manor or Marcus, as he begun trudging towards the exit of the sanctuary. Which had at one point been a massive ranch, built by Dorea and Charles Potter for their squib son. A squib son that the magical world had no idea had existed. That son – Phoenix nicknamed Nix – didn’t have any children, so it reverted back to the Potter-Black estate, and thus him. It was one of the biggest properties – and land – that he had thus he had decided here would make for a good sanctuary. Truthfully, he’d been pulled in this direction five years ago, although he had no idea why. He just felt the need to be in America.

Not even he was capable of Apparating someone around the wards he’d put up. It just encouraged weaknesses in the wards when someone did that. Harry wanted no weaknesses in his wards, wouldn’t dare risk it with everyone relying on him. From Druids, Centaurs, Werewolves, wizards, witches to even merfolk in the lake. Nobody was turned away, so long as they obeyed the laws set forth within sanctuary, and nobody, absolutely nobody dared to mess with the new order of things with safety nets like this in place. So they had to make their way outside of Sanctuary, talking while they did so.

“How’s your son?” Harry asked, his tone shifting from resonating to adoring. Nodding as he passed sanctuary members digging into the soil for vegetables for dinner. While others dealt with grass, picking up fruit that had fallen from the trees. It was always a werewolf who went for the honey, the bees vacated the vicinity when one went near, it had been comical really, the first time it happened. There were even two of Marcus’ pack building another cabin to house another pack. Everyone had some sort of chores they had to do, even the kids. It kept them busy, made everyone feel like one massive pack, gave everyone a reason to get up every day and keep going, even if it was only for the sake of others. They’d all become like one big family. 

“He’s fine,” Marcus said immediately, his own blank façade changing into one of tender indulgence. “He’s recovered fully and already annoying his mother to explore outside again.” Climbing trees and falling out of them, a typical boy. He was human, but his mother had been one upon his birth, so it was always fifty-fifty as to whether he’d be a werewolf. Julia had insisted he was one with the strength in him when he was kicking her in the womb. Not the only thing she’d been wrong about, she’d always been determined to remain human, especially after their son was born, so they could be human together. Unfortunately, Julia had been attacked…he’d almost been too late, thought he had been too late. She’d hidden their son and taken their ire upon herself, to protect him, with the strength and feral intensity of any wolf. He hadn’t been surprised she’d taken to the life of a werewolf so easily. With him and a stable anchor already in her life? The change had been easy. He couldn’t have been more proud. With potions to correct the break, he hadn’t been forced to endure his son in pain for weeks while he recovered. 

Harry nodded, pleased that Sammy was going to be alright, he was such a bright inquisitive little thing. He might only be six but he was a leader himself in the making. Helped make an adventure of every little thing for the children, some of which were older than him but still no less awestruck by him. He’d been barely two years old when he saw his mother attacked – hidden as he was – and despite that he was never without a cheery wave for anyone. The world hadn’t touched him like it had the adults around him, and most, as harsh and brutal as the world was now…always gave him a smile in turn. Even if it was wiped off the faces as soon as his back was turned. 

Some aspects of the world had remained, the desire to protect children. 

“Prepared?” Harry questioned Marcus, he’d learned never to surprise any werewolf with abrupt Apparation. He still had the claw marks from one Beta he’d been taking to Sanctuary, his control had been shot to hell with all the sensations swimming through him. They’d been so deep the gouges that not even magic had been able to repair the damage done to his arm. Thus he had five claw marks wrapped around his arm, just one of the many scars he carried as a reminder.

Marcus nodded, he had the best control over his wolf, being a born Were, and a very strong anchor. It made sense that he’d be chosen to accompany Harry in his routine. Not only was it an extra set of eyes to watch his back, he could smell everything in the vicinity, more specifically other magical creatures, and would know if someone was say…feral and a danger. Fortunately, Marcus, who had gone his entire life believing feral werewolves couldn’t be rehabilitated had been proven wrong, he had five pack members who had previously been feral omegas after the war started. 

Their bonds were as strong as the bonds he had with his wife and son. Stronger than some of his long time beta’s and that said a lot. Yes, they were caged for months, fed by him and him alone, kept company when he had free time, spoken to about the goings-on, eventually they began to come back to themselves. Associating him with safety and food had somehow accomplished it. He had been in awe. 

Their first stop was Texas, the closest to them, just one state they jumped. 

“Merlin,” Harry whispered, eyes widening in shock, “Tell me I’m just seeing things?” stumbling towards the tree, heart pounding erratically. Blackness was beginning to dance around the edges of the tree. It was barely discernible, but Harry could see it, and he knew it was not good. 

Marcus, who was half transformed, forced his claws back in and carded his hand through his blonde shorn hair. “You’re not,” he informed him, his tone grim and solemn. All the while his mind whirling about what this meant for all of them. What would come of them all when the Nemeta’s died off? What would happen to the Sanctuaries? Where they all destined to die despite the effort of a six year operation to save who they could? “Has it been poisoned?” 

Harry closed his eyes and pressed his hand against it, pouring his magic into it, he could feel the connecting trees and his hand yanked back off it. “Damn it, ground contamination…why didn’t I consider that?” snarling like a wounded beast, he paced back and forth, anxious and bloody terrified of what this could mean. Knowing what this meant and not wanting to acknowledge it. 

“How many others have been affected? Do you know?” Marcus asked, anxious and worried because he could feel those things coming from Harry, who rarely felt that way. 

“The three that are connected to this one…all show signs,” Harry explained, rubbing his face, his mind whirling as he tried to figure out a way to prevent more contamination…but it was unfortunately, only going to delay the inevitable and not even by a long shot. Maybe a month or two…they needed a long term solution. “The others need to be made aware of this right away.” They needed to come up with a solution and fast. 

“Are we leaving right now?” Marcus asked, preparing himself for the Apparation back to sanctuary. 

“No, we’ll check the others first,” Harry said, brow furrowed in obvious contemplation, “I don’t want to risk it being worse on some of the others.” the area surrounding the Nemeta’s were flourishing, lush and green, but outside the confines of the spells, was blackened rot, the ground’s grass had withered away to nothingness, leaving nothing but mud and ash behind. Fire and neglect had turned the once beautiful planet into a husk of its former self. 

They apparated up to Kansas, Wyoming, and back down to Colorado then apparated three states to California to check how bad the Nemeta there was. Merlin, that one, it had endured so much, and it was the one causing a backlash to all other Nemeta, and with it being on the Telluric Currents it couldn’t be dug out, its roots were in way too deep, and cutting it down just made it worse. This Nemeton had been poisoned, cut down, become twisted with a virgin sacrifice of all things, used by an evil witch with a vendetta. Played host to a damn parasite, and had so much death on it that it had begun to draw supernatural’s to its death, its original purpose had been twisted with so much bad happening to it. He had felt everything that happened to it when he used his magic to diagnose it. It had horrified him. 

That Nemeton was worse, the blackness had encompassed it all around its roots. In just a single fortnight…all hope was fading fast for the tree. It hadn’t really stood a chance, but they had nonetheless hoped the potion they’d given it would help. The ones that were connected to it, the seven, would too receive the same death sentence just slower. 

“Incoming,” Marcus growled half-transformed again, the smell of aconite had him immediately going on the defensive. He even hated going around the damn side of the green-house were the wolfsbane was grown. It had saved many of their lives over the past six years, but it was an instinctive reaction. “Hunters…and werewolves…and humans that smells like pack,” there never were many of those, human pack members that wasn’t blood. It was always a surprise to run into them, even before the world had descended into darkness.

“Humans?” Harry echoed in surprise, oh, there had been sympathisers, they tried to parry for peace, to let them live peacefully amongst humanity. Unfortunately, most of them had paid with their lives for their belief that they weren’t all evil incarnate. Ironically enough, not by the hands of anyone supernatural…but the haters, the radicalised hunters who had never cared one whit for the code and convinced others to joyfully follow. Thinking they were the top dog, that they could wipe out everything ‘unnatural’ due to their numbers. Just because they had taken out a few omega werewolves, they had seen nothing about werewolves pushed to the limit and with no need to hold back for fear of exposure. 

As the war begun to worsen, the TV stop broadcasting, the internet and communication devices went down, with that military fell apart, trying to take down the supernatural to appease the public had backfired spectacularly. The mass hysteria and panic shooting and looting in the streets, only out for themselves, humanity had fallen, it was like living in the dark ages now. The government had then inevitably felled unable to keep up. They’d never been prepared for the likes of something like this. There had been radio transmissions for a while, always repeating the same thing, how to kill most creatures, wolfsbane and mountain ash for werewolves, iron for the fae and of course…mistletoe for most things. It had gone off eventually, now nothing comes through not even static. 

Not even the magical world had prepared for this, despite the fact it was their greatest fear and had taken all measures to prevent exposure, for centuries. Oh, they had tried, very hard, but it hadn’t stopped the inevitable. 

Harry stood up, wand at the ready, despite the fact he didn’t need it, glancing in the direction Marcus was looking in. Only for his eyes to narrow in on them, there had to be at least thirty-five to forty hunters chasing a few werewolves with a black wolf in the lead.

Gunshots were going off, arrows shooting out ahead as the Supes tried to avoid them. One werewolf had one of the humans ensconced in his arms clearly unconscious, as they ran, even from here Harry could see how malnourished they all were. Not surprising really, it wasn’t easy to find food the hunters weren’t just killing werewolves with their bombs they were killing off the wildlife too. He sincerely hoped they – the hunters – were as bloody miserable as the Supes. 

\--------0 

Exhaustion rippled over all of them, as they ran, Chris more so than the rest, he was after all only human. Isaac kept a grip of Chris as they bolted, refusing to let Chris fall behind. They’d lost enough already, he wasn’t going to lose the only father figure he’d ever had. He’d rather die for him than see him dead, he’d die for any member of his pack actually. 

“I can’t,” Chris wheezed out, “Go on!” his entire body felt ready to collapse, and with so many hunters they couldn’t hope to outrun them. “Get out of here,” trying to shove Isaac off him, but the werewolf wasn’t having any of it, he just gripped him tighter and basically carried him on his back, refusing to give up. Liam gripped Chris’ other side and both helped ease the burden. 

Derek looked back, his blue eyes blazing with fury, he wanted nothing more than to kill every single one of those hunters and be done with it. Fortunately, he wasn’t suicidal, he knew he wouldn’t stand a chance, but if it gave the pack a chance to get away, his mate to get away, he’d do it in a heartbeat. 

“Don’t even think about it,” Peter barked out, grabbing Derek’s ruff and forcing his nephew to continue on, eyes flashing back at him in warning. “MOVE!” and Derek did, only because he knew if he didn’t Peter would remain there with his mate ensconced in his arms until he did. 

They knew these woods better than the damn hunters, they would get away from them eventually. He did not wish to consider the alternative. Peter had taken one look at the Nemeton and realized what had caused Stiles so much concern…Stiles magic was connected to those trees, all sparks and druids were connected to them. The fact it was dying off…well, Stiles illness it seemed, was a by-product of it, the Nemeton could be killing Stiles too or at best making him sick. He’d always been a spark, always had magical capabilities, and they honestly didn’t know what would happen once the magic was gone…what it would do to Stiles and that concerned them. Peter tightened his hold on Stiles, refusing to contemplate the idea of leaving him behind, he’d always liked Stiles, right from the very beginning. He was smart, loyal, and by the moon, he preferred being human, wasn’t jealous of the others for their new abilities – although Scott had believed otherwise – and was just amazing. 

Peter froze momentarily, as a scent wafted his way, “Mate,” he muttered to himself, stunned to the core. Go figure, he’d find his damn mate at the end of the world, and him being human and one of the ones hunting them. Derek whined in his animal form, unable to do or so anyway to help bring Peter back. Isaac shouldering him brought him out of his stupor and just like that he was running again. Easily outrunning Isaac and Liam who were lugged down with Chris barely coherent between them. 

“AH!” Liam cried out, falling clutching his shoulder where the arrow had penetrated his body. Thus, Chris fell and Isaac grappled for both of them, trying to get them moving again. Peter bit out a curse, looking back before glancing at Derek, but before he could make a decision whether to risk helping or not, the enraged roar of an Alpha shook the very ground they walked on. 

“Get them all together and away from the hunters,” Harry had commanded, his magic bursting forth, creating an invisible wall between the hunters and the supernatural’s. Once that was done, the arrows and bullets they’d just shot out their bows and guns bounced off the shield and ricocheted right back at them, and they definitely didn’t miss as bullets and arrows embedded themselves in the hunters. It would only stop projectiles, not the Muggles themselves, which they learned as they kept running after the small group. So that was what Marcus had done. 

“Follow me,” Marcus lisped out through his fangs, eyes flashing red, bounding over the vulnerable humans in the group and slashing the neck of an encroaching hunter aiming for the most vulnerable member of the pack. Leaving the hunter to gasp for breath, dying out through blood loss. 

As Marcus got them to safety, a huge wall of flames arching up separating the hunters and the supernatural’s causing one of them to freeze in horror, unable to move, caught in a vicious flashback, that pause cost him dearly, as a shot blasted into his side bringing him to his knees. Automatically curling protectively around the figure in his arms. Keeping Stiles safe, but flashing back to keeping his human niece safe from the flames that was burning him. 

“Peter! Peter! Uncle Peter! C’mon!” the now fully human said after shaking off the full shift, turning his uncle around, utterly naked and uncaring as he tended to him. His heart sinking when he saw the gaping wound, the smell of blood was blocking his nose, he hadn’t realized he had been shot. Stiles remained unconscious, unaware of what was happening. 

“He’s a Hale,” Marcus said watching him in awe, “The Hales are the only ones capable of full shift,” it was a boon to have Hale bloodline in your family. There were only a few Hale’s left, even before the world went to shit, “He must be Derek Hale, and that one is Peter Hale.” He informed Harry. 

It showed how comfortable the human was – at least one of them – when he didn’t even blink or look away when Derek fully shifted. Not that he looked like he had the strength to do much of anything really. 

“Move aside,” Harry said, his tone demanding but soft, Derek looked lost, as if he had already lost his uncle. He could feel his magic tugging him towards the werewolf, it was the same tug that had him coming to America in the first place. 

Derek snarled, crouching over his uncle, ready to defend him to the last. 

“None of the bullets survived, none of them,” Liam got out, as he raked around the wreckage of burnt flesh but none of the guns let alone the ammunition had survived. He was suffering from a wolfsbane arrow, he could feel it, and Peter too…terror consumed him, they were going to die. 

Marcus snarled back at Derek, defending Harry, it tapered off when Harry touched his shoulder lightly. “I’m going to heal him, but you’ll have to let me see him. I do not have any intentions of hurting him, you have my word.” he explained to the hypervigilant werewolf who was in his Beta shift. Although, he did wonder why he had reacted the way he had at the fire wall he’d created. Whatever it was, it had to be something horrific, so perhaps he didn’t want to know. 

Derek indecisively remained crouched over his uncle, distrust clearly displayed for all to see. He didn’t trust magic users, except for Stiles, they’d been betrayed by too many of them. Lost too many of his pack because of them. 

\----------0

There we go! So, what's wrong with Stiles and will Harry be able to rouse him or will he die when magic does? Will Harry and the other magic users go the same way? Who will go back in time and how far will they travel back in time? Before Deucalion's attack? before the hale fire? or just before Scott gets turned? R&R please


	3. Chapter 3

Is This The World We Created 

Chapter 3 

Harry remained steadily patient, saying nothing further to the small group. He had no idea what they’d been through, so he didn’t want to make a wrong move. So he kept his hands outstretched and in front of him, in a ‘I’m unarmed’ sort of way. He did allow his magic to feel for the werewolf, to try and gauge how he was and how much longer he had. 

He did panic a bit then, realisation dawning on him, this was his soulmate that the group was keeping from him. His soulmate. It made Harry wish to just use his magic and then heal him in order to calm down and relax. If he wasn’t an adult wizard and in control, he would have already done so. He could feel the pull that had annoyed him so long finally settle into his bones, and his magic wrap around the werewolf unconsciously. 

His panic caused Marcus to step forth, keeping himself between the pack and his leader. His eyes still red as he observed the group. Then his ears perked up, and he wasn’t the only one, Derek stiffened, narrowing in on the Alpha aware that his hearing was greater than his own. He knew because at one point he had been an Alpha himself and new just how greatly and significantly his powers were bolstered. 

“Incoming,” the Alpha intoned, tensing up, ready and alert, claws unsheathed. Sniffing the air, trying to gauge how many were on their tails. “Hunters, at least thirty of them,” such a large group was nothing surprising to either Harry or the pack. In fact, thirty was a relatively small group in comparison really. All that was missing from them was the pitchforks and the fire, from ye olden days. 

“How far out?” Harry asked, his tone professional, standing loose limbed and ready to do whatever it took. 

“Too close,” the Alpha warned him, he wouldn’t get to heal Peter here, it would take too long and the hunters would be on their tails. “They have automatic weapons, snipers, they’re heading for the trees, and hunting for them.” gesturing towards the pack, assuming there was no Alpha nearby to hear them, stupid decision that. They quietened down very quickly though, and by quickly he meant that, he could barely hear them moving, “Professionals, can barely hear them moving through the forest.” Having to actually strain to hear any sort of movement, they seriously had a hard on for this group. Either that or just anything that was supernatural. 

“Shit,” Harry muttered, “Well, you can either come with me or face that lot,” he told the pack with a seriously grim face. Praying that they would come with him, he wasn’t going to force them to come with him. 

Derek glanced down at Peter and then at Liam, both were injured and nowhere near a supply of wolfsbane. It seemed as if this magical practitioner could heal wounds with only magic. Like Stiles had learned to do out of sheer desperation years ago. If he didn’t take them…then his Uncle Peter and Liam would die…but if he went and it was a trap…they would all die. Shoulders hunching, he clutched at Stiles, who hadn’t woken up in a week, and was constantly feverish and out of it. Despite the fact the pack had two members who were older than Derek, he had become the defacto Alpha of them all. This was his decision and the pack would abide by it. 

“You’ve got five seconds to make a decision,” Harry stated. Revealing nothing, neither by facial expression or scent, he kept his feelings tightly contained behind his Occlumency walls. Otherwise he would utterly overwhelm everyone around him. 

“Where we are going there is sanctuary, it’s been there for six years now, we can help your pack, even if you want to leave again afterwards… you can take supplies and we can drop of off wherever you like, just come with us and recuperate.” The Alpha informed them, his heart remaining steady and calm, knowing they would hear the truth in his statement. 

“Derek,” Liam whimpered, curled up in pain the arrow having been dragged out of him by Isaac moments prior. He wasn’t healing, the wolfsbane was preventing any healing from being done. He felt like his shoulder was on fire, as the wolfsbane did its job at an excruciating pace.

“We’ll come,” Derek stated sharply, his face a blank mask. 

“Who here is a bitten wolf?” Harry asked, getting ready to move. 

“Liam, Isaac,” Derek said, scowling, wondering why the hell he asked such a thing. Did he have something against bitten Were’s? Was he one of those people and only want ‘pure’ werewolves in sanctuary? 

“Hold on to me, everyone, immediately,” Harry ordered, grabbing a hold of Liam and Isaac’s wrists, keeping them angled away from his body. The Alpha automatically stood at the back of him, gripping his shoulders. The sound of gunfire closing in on them, bouncing off Harry’s shield. Harry was grateful for Marcus’ forethought, he didn’t want any of these unknown werewolves near his neck or shoulders…especially since he was about to Apparate them away from the area. Apparating caused them to lose control, especially a bitten one. He had many scars to prove that as a sound theory too. The others all grabbed a hold of his arms, while Harry’s other hand held onto Peter and Stiles, it was going to be seriously uncomfortable due to the fact he was crouched. They assumed he was going to use magic to create a new wall to keep the hunters from finding them, instead they found themselves enduring the worst experience they’d had with magic yet. 

“Hold your breath,” Marcus informed them, just before Harry Apparated the group back to the walls of Sanctuary. 

Unfortunately, they didn’t listen, which made the experience harder than it had to be. 

Marcus was quick to grab Liam and Isaac’s wrists, while Harry was strong he wasn’t as strong as a werewolf. Hence his automatic reaction in order to prevent Harry being farther injured by the werewolves he was so desperately trying to help. Derek had wolfed out as well, but at least had the decency to think first and not just blindly attack. “Easy pup, look around you,” making no attempt to Alpha voice him into submission or hurt him in any way. It wasn’t how you taught young werewolves, at least not in his opinion. Everyone had different approaches to how they taught their beta’s. 

“Daddy!” Sammy said with wide beaming smile, right at the edge of sanctuary, waiting for his Alpha daddy to return to him, as he often did. No matter how many times he was reprimanded for it. The ‘reprimand’ was half hearted at best, there was no greater sight to Marcus than seeing his son welcoming him back, even if they’d only been gone a few hours. There was one thing to be said though, one thing Sammy never disobeyed, he never stepped over the line, never exited sanctuary. 

“Sammy go and get Clara and Alex, quick as you can now, tell them we’ll be in my quarters,” Harry said, using a reassuring voice on the young boy. “Help me get them passed the wards,” using magic, Peter and Stiles were automatically levitated, a stretcher appearing under them orange in appearance and begun to levitate them into sanctuary. Derek didn’t even leave Stiles side for a second, holding onto his hand as he easily kept up with it. Derek growled, a low rumble not trusting magic must, except for when Stiles used it. 

“Alright, come on, let’s go,” Harry murmured, keeping well away from the unconscious human and werewolf, they seem to bring Derek’s protective tendencies. It wasn’t the first time he’d been on the receiving end of protective attitudes, and it probably wouldn’t be the last. 

Nothing else was said as Harry and Marcus – The Alpha – led the newcomers into the ranch turned sanctuary. They weren’t stopped by anyone, and nobody was overly nosy by their presence here, they would all get a chance to say hello anyway.

The other human and the long curly haired werewolf helped the youngster, Liam Harry thought his name was. Meanwhile, Derek walked closely as humanly possible to the human. The girl sidling close but keeping a close eye on the Alpha and Peter. He could tell they were related, the similarities were too striking to be anything but. The sharp features, hair colour, everything, did his mate have a daughter? Someone he had chosen as his life mate? 

Derek gaped as he walked, his Beta shift receding as he tried to take everything in. The smells, the people, the scents, the contentment, the safety, the happiness, the pups he could see playing as if all was right in their world. The smell of the food though, it made his stomach rumble and an unwilling whine to burst forth. He’d barely eaten anything substantial in such a long time, instead giving his share to Stiles, his mate, he was sick he needed more sustenance. 

The rustic ranch was the most beautiful thing Derek had ever seen, lush and thriving, unlike the rest of the world outside of it. Inside had Derek closing his eyes, just listening to the general hubbub that came with a full house, reminding Derek so vividly of his family. A family that was lost to him due to his own actions, actions he had forgiven himself for, allowing his eyes to go from blue back to gold for a while. Before he had to kill to defend his pack again, and thus his eyes went from gold again to electric blue he didn’t regret it for a single moment, his pack was everything. Even if it was an unconventional one without an Alpha. 

Tightening his hold on Stiles’ hand unconsciously now that he had no claws to hurt him, leading his pack to safety. Scents did not lie, and there was nobody here afraid, no pity, no rage and no scheming. There was an abundance of tiredness, but it would be strange if there wasn’t. They were all tired, of hiding, of trying to live, tired of hunting, tired of being threatened for who they were. 

“Holy shit! Is that a Centaur?” Isaac blurted out, having happened to look out of the window on the second floor. “There’s more than one! They really exist? Holy crap!” 

Harry chuckled softly, the guy sounded more like a teenager than a fully grown man. Then again, when you do the calculations he was a teen when the world went to hell. Perhaps he hadn’t had a chance to know what the supernatural world was like before it happened, perhaps he was bitten just before or just after. “Yes, there’s a herd of them, they don’t much like humans, and by that I mean anyone, whether they be witches, wizards, werewolves, druids, human or supernatural I suppose.” They had an eclectic mix here at sanctuary. 

A stifled groan from Liam had the urgency re-lit under their backsides, as Harry swiftly led them to his quarters. Opening the door so that Marcus could get through, “Set him on the seat,” he told the Alpha touching his shoulder in silent thanks. 

Harry meanwhile directed the magic in the stretchers to gently let Peter and the human onto the two sofa’s that were available. Flicking his wand conjuring up more seats so that the others could sit down if they desired to. Which the other human and the long curly haired did, Derek and the female chose to remain standing. 

“This is going to hurt,” Harry said quietly, speaking solely to an unconscious Peter, “I’m sorry.” With that Harry pressed his hand against the wound pouring his magic into the injured werewolf. 

Peter’s eyes opened in unexpected agony, screaming and writhing, unable to even think of putting strength into batting the magical away. 

“STAY!” Marcus boomed using Alpha voice, refusing to risk Harry because the Hale pack was on the defensive. Predictably they listened, eyes flashing, anger and uselessness before ceding to his control, as Beta’s they wouldn’t be able to help it, whether he was their alpha or not the Alpha voice affected everyone.

Peter gasped out breaths, the feeling of the heat coursing through his body no longer hurt, his bones were nonetheless locked up, terrified of fire and flames coming out of those hands. Yet as warm as the heat was, it didn’t burn him from the inside out, he could feel it coursing around the wound and infection caused by the Aconite. His own natural healing began to accelerate at a rapid pace, a pace that should not be possible, this accelerated pace was helped along by something...this strangers magic? Even Stiles hadn’t been capable of that, and Stiles was the strongest magic user possible. As the panic receded he began to realize the scent that had called to him…came from the one helping him. 

His shift fell away, leaving human eyes staring at his mate that was kneeling before him focused solely on healing him. Gasping and wheezing at the feel of the bullet emerging through his body and skin and into the guys hand. Within moments the wound began to heal over properly, it still hurt a little, as the healing focused on dealing with the internal damage but compared to how it felt with the aconite burning through his system this was child’s play. 

“You’re not healing very fast,” Harry commented, frowning in concern, watching the skin knit back together at a glacial pace – especially for a werewolf – in his opinion. Pouring more of his magic into Peter in order to heal him. 

“You need energy to heal, they’re all undernourished,” Marcus whispered to Harry, aware all but the humans would hear. “Clara and Alex are here,” Marcus informed him just before a knock sounded his door, they knew not just to enter his rooms. 

“Come in,” Harry called out to them, “They’re safe,” he reassured the tense and wary group. 

“What do you need?” Clara asked, immediately ready to aid in whatever way she could. 

Harry pursed his lips, “Alex heal Liam, Clara get everyone something to eat, they need it in order to heal.” He decided upon his next course of action. 

“Of course,” Alexandria murmured, the young mage agreed, making her way over to Stiles before a soft voice pipped in, “I’m Liam!” not that he though he deserved treatment before Stiles. 

Harry reluctantly stood, glancing at the only other that needed treatment. He had a feeling it wasn’t going to be easy. The werewolf looked quite frankly…murderous, oh, the human wasn’t just his mate…he was this guys anchor to his humanity. Definitely going to be difficult. 

“What’s wrong with him?” Harry asked Derek quietly, making no move to approach him or the human. “We can’t help if you don’t allow us, has he been injured? Exhaustion?” firing off a few common things that could potentially be wrong. 

“We think it might be connected to his magic,” Peter informed Harry, completely ignoring the possessive and angry snarl his nephew let out. 

Harry blinked, “I don’t understand?” why would his magic cause him… oh, well, he asked, ”He’s suffering from magical depletion?” 

“He’s a Spark that isn’t supposed to be possible,” Peter nixed that idea immediately, Sparks are only limited to their imagination. 

Harry closed his eyes, dread consuming him, “Was Beacon Hills his territory?” it was right next to the Nemeta, he could have very well bonded to the tree. 

“Technically,” Derek bit out, but he had a feeling that what he and Harry considered ‘territory’ was two different things. 

“Did he bond to the Nemeton?” Harry asked stomach queasy, had Stiles been the one preventing the tree from dying? “How long has he been unconscious?” 

“There you go, keep sitting down, let yourself heal,” Alexandria told the adorable puppy looking werewolf to remain seated. Nodding in satisfaction when the wound finally closed, leaving behind smooth skin, with only blood caked on that indicated something had even happened. 

“A week,” Derek gritted his teeth, worry and fear consuming him, “And I don’t know,” looking as though his world was collapsing. He just didn’t know, even Peter didn’t know, and he knew most about magic except for maybe Stiles. 

Harry stepped closer, “May I?” his hand hovering, watching Derek for permission. He wasn’t about to make any move towards someone’s anchor, especially as he wasn’t trusted. “I mean him no harm, I just want to find out what’s wrong with him so I can help.” Remaining truthful, knowing that the stressed out werewolf would hear the truth in his heartbeat. 

Derek reluctantly moved aside, but only just, keeping a distrustful eye on the magical user. Not even the Alpha would have been able to get Derek to trust him immediately. He was watching them so intently that he jumped when Harry spoke, “Can you tell me his symptoms?” 

“He was cold, before he gained a low grade fever, before it gradually worsened,” Peter was the one to speak, Derek wasn’t one for talking even now. “His fever caused delusions, feverish dreams,” Derek flinched at the reminder of Stiles speaking to his dead father, then pleading for him to get away. Derek hated the fact Stiles had lost his father more than anything else that had happened since he returned to Beacon Hills. Unfortunately, Noah Stilinski proved just as stubborn and unmovable as his son, and wanted to help despite the dangers. “It wasn’t long at all before he remained that way, we’ve been bringing down his temperature any way we can, medicine we found in the old Beacon Hills newspaper offices and cold water.” 

“Cold you say? To the extent he was shivering?” Harry asked speculatively. 

“Yes, we were able to warm him up,” Derek finally spoke again, between the werewolves, Stiles body temperature had gone back up. Enough that he hadn’t worried too much, but his easement had been premature. 

Harry held his hand out waiting, Stiles if he had been conscious would have commented on how much Harry resembled ‘Thor’ waiting for his hammer and probably made some bad joke about it. Fortunately for everyone’s sake, he wasn’t, Harry regretfully hadn’t seen Thor or any movies, he was as far from normal as one could get. Before long a small vial slapped into Harry’s hand, “This is a magic replenisher, if he is magically depleted then this will help.” 

“And if he’s not?” Peter asked with deceptive mildness, he was very protective of Stiles, and he did not want to see anything happening to him. 

“I believe he is, but it will just be nothing more than a boost if he isn’t,” Harry explained easily, “It isn’t pleasant to drink, but I can use magic to have it immediately transferred into his stomach which will work quicker?” 

“Peter?” Derek questioned, all this magic was beyond him. 

Peter just shook his head, he knew nothing of any sort of power boosters, or magic replenishers as his mate – his mate – had said. 

“I’ve taken it in the past,” Alexandria informed them seriously, “It tastes awful but does work,” 

Derek was still staring at Peter, willing him to know the answers that he didn’t. Years ago he wouldn’t have trusted Peter with even a plant let alone his mate. Things had changed, all the things Peter had warned him about – which Derek had just thought was jealousy – had come to pass. He’d been right all along, and by the Moon Peter had tried to stop what he could see was going to come to pass and paid heavily for it repeatedly. Eichen house was…an awful place to be and he’d let his own uncle be locked up in there. How different would things be if he had succeeded? 

Peter nodded once, heart pounding away as the stuff in the vial disappeared presumably into Stiles stomach. Everyone in the pack held their breath, Stiles was the heart of their pack, always had been, always would be. It had just taken a long, long time for them to realize that. Too long, in fact, but the years hadn’t been kind to any of them in one way or another. 

Then, low and behold, Stiles groaned, a soft sound but the first sound he’d made in days. The relief on the faces of the werewolves, made Harry realize he wasn’t just an Anchor of one but the lodestar that kept them together. Then again, groups who had started out at the beginning of all this…well, it was a surprise to see them all still alive and well. The Spark must be very powerful if he’d kept them all safe this long on his own, but his reserves must be immense if he was keeping the Nemeton and them safe simultaneously. 

“Stiles?” Derek said with urgency, kneeling beside his mate, green eyes watching Stiles intently, sweet relief flowing through him when those beautiful amber eyes opened. Honestly, if Stiles was to ever become a werewolf…he didn’t think there would be any change to the eyes, so Beta gold and Derek loved his mate’s uniqueness. He wasn’t the only one with those coloured eyes, true, but they were rare. 

“Wazithell ‘append,” Stiles slurred, “Whyma feel…” he was starving, starving in a way he hadn’t felt since he began practicing magic when he’d been a novice spark. Other than that, he felt…powerful, like he could use magic for months without pause. 

“Why are you interested in Beacon Hills?” Peter demanded to know, his gaze focusing on the information plastered across the walls of the room. His relaxed posture with Stiles coming around… become tensed as a coiled spring as he wondered what this guy wanted. 

“Who isn’t at this point?” Harry replied wryly, “Not that there’s much there, at least nothing actually confirmed…just stories that people have heard over the years.” 

“Is that bacon I smell?” Stiles sat up, “Whoa!” feeling immediately woozy afterwards. 

“Quite right,” Clara said with a quite chipper voice, platters floating around her, filled with delicious smelling and tasting food. All five of the platters were delicately put down on the table that suddenly materialised for them courtesy of Harry’s magic. “Now excuse me, unless you need me I best get everyone else fed before we have a riot on our hands,” she added teasingly, which of course, was just a tease, there was more than enough food for everyone here, enough animals, in fact all the sanctuaries made sure they had enough to do them long term when they were put up. What wasn’t used was preserved until the next meal, nothing went to waste. 

“I’m sure they won’t want to hurt your feelings by doing that, or risk your ire,” Harry said wryly, sighing softly, as he sat down, Clara laughed, before waving as she left, Alexandria leaving with her.

“You can eat with your pack if you prefer,” Harry said to Marcus, aware that he had everyone’s attention. 

Marcus didn’t reply, he merely took a seat, he wasn’t about to leave Harry alone until he could trust them. 

“Come on, sit down and eat, the questions can wait until afterwards I’m sure.” Harry added to the rest of them. 

The Alpha immediately flashed his eyes in warning, making it clear that they weren’t to question Harry. 

Derek easily helped Stiles to his feet, keeping most of his weight overjoyed to see him conscious after an entire week of terror that he’d never wake back up. 

Peter glanced at the wall then the food, his stomach rumbling loudly, clearly torn between eating and getting answers immediately. In the end, he did what all werewolves have done before him, sat down, shut up and loaded his plate with enough food until it was positively overflowing, keeping a close watch on his mate both fascinated and cautious. Why was his mate so interested in Beacon Hills? What was his end game? He was…actually he had no idea where they were. “Where are we?” he could smell a river nearby, and not just a body of water…it was vaguely familiar. 

“Welcome to New Orleans,” Harry said, informing them of where they were, a wicked smirk on his face, watching them choking on the food, bacon, roasted potatoes, left over turkey from last night, bread, gravy and a lot of different green veggies. 

Peter was almost proud of that smirk, it was very reminiscent of ones he liked to give others when he knew information they didn’t. Been a long time since that occurred of course, not much as of late to smirk, laugh or even smile about. 

Stiles groaned and Peter threw him a grin of his own, very much aware of what Stiles was probably thinking, or one of the many things anyway. ‘Not another Peter’ or ‘now there’s two of them’ amongst probably wishing for curly fries and such. Stiles’ mind was a…hell of a place to be, his mind jumped every few minutes which didn’t help him learn magic as quickly as he could. He hated it, but without his medication his ADHD was a little…out of control but not as bad as it used to be as a child. It made him unique though, and Peter had always been fascinated with the rapid fire way he connected things all the while thinking of something else and going off on tangents. 

Other than the revelation of where they were, the room remained silent as the new pack stuffed themselves as full as they could. Not stopping until they literally just couldn’t eat another morsel, but they made a great effort to empty every plate, even the vegetables. 

Unsurprisingly it was Peter who spoke first “Why are you researching information about Beacon Hills?” 

Harry leaned back, with a flick of his wand the contents of the table disappeared. Harry pressed his fingers against his mouth, a thoughtful look on his face. “There is…a three point spell over by the door, why don’t you see for yourself?” he’d rather not have to explain the intricates of his plans, it was just the one of many. 

“Nu-uh, me first,” Stiles tried to stand, before Derek grabbed him stopping him from face planting on the ground or hitting the table on his way down. A very familiar routine had had Derek relaxing farther. Pouting at Peter’s back, he sat back down, hating how weak he felt even though he felt as though he had more power than ever. His curiosity was getting the better of him, making discontented grabby noises, causing Peter to roll his eyes and bring the ‘three point spell’ over, it was a lot of pages, ingredients, directions, but he had to keep reading since he didn’t know what it did. 

“I’m going to assume they’re the brains of the pack?” Harry said, an amused smile on his face. The others weren’t even attempting to try to get between them. 

Either that or they were in food comas and just enjoying a full to bursting belly for the first time in who knows how long? 

“The patrol is back,” Marcus informed Harry, “No signs of anyone,” which included hunters, nobody wanted them converging on their doorstep, so they often went out and dealt with any they smelt. Patrolling around their territory half the group were Were’s and half were able to perform magic to keep everyone safe if they were spotted. It took hours with half the group being unable to move at the speed the Were’s do but safety was paramount and they adhered to the restrictions Harry put on them for their safety. 

“Good,” Harry replied, just then Marcus sighed in exasperation, shaking his head fondly, it was the only warning Harry got before young Sammy bound into the room making a beeline for his daddy. When it came to kids, there were no boundaries, regardless of what was said. 

“Wait…this is impossible…” Stiles muttered, “It can’t be,” 

“Theoretically it is..” Peter added, flicking quickly through the information. 

“But come on…I mean seriously?!” 

“What is it?” Derek’s commanding voice brought both Peter and Stiles out of their vocal musings. 

“No way,” Stiles shook his head eyes impossibly wide from where he sat. Regardless of his belief, he felt hope brewing within him for the first time in years. 

“It appears as though this is a…” Peter begun, struggling with the implication of what he’d just read. “Ritualised spell that will send someone back in time.” 

“Sands of time though? What the hell is that? There’s no way to even get something like that!” Stiles argued, “It’s moot point.” His mind mulling over what it could mean, sands of time? Sand from what? A beech with the name meaning time? 

Derek snorted, clearly not buying into it, but he could see the looks on Stiles and Peter’s face, they really thought something like that would work. “You seriously think that will work?” taken aback if Peter and Stiles did then it would. 

“Oh come on it’s fools hope!” Chris said derisively, “A desperate man’s dream,” 

“Ah, come on, we all wish we could go back but it’s not going to happen,” Isaac agreed with Chris, but that wasn’t a strange thing. When Isaac attached himself to someone, he agreed with them until he found someone new to attach himself to. It repeated itself with Derek, Scott and of course, Chris and it had remained that way. 

“But is it possible?” Liam asked, sounding hopeful, but he was the youngest of the group and would of course, want to believe it’s possible. 

“No,” Stiles and the others declared, refusing to give their packmate foolish hope, as much as Stiles wished it would work…how the hell would they get even a third of the list? The sand of time thing was the deciding factor. “I mean phoenix tears? Sand of time? The blood of a wizard who has died and returned?” 

“That’s actually a rough translation, what it means is the Master of Death, but yes, it does mean a wizard who has seen the veil on the other side and returned.” Harry said wryly, they needed the power of the Master of Death to complete the spell, along with Stiles actually, he was connected to the Nemeton and the Ley lines. “Something you are familiar with, isn’t that correct?” Harry said, gazing at Peter with an intense look on his face. 

“Excuse me?” Peter was stiff as he stared at Harry stunned beyond belief. 

“Your soul is fractured,” Harry explained easily enough, not caring that he was making the pack defensive again. “You made yourself a soul piece and put it in something before returning…your two pieces were reunited but there is cracks leading right down to the foundation of your soul.” Not using the term Horcrux because not many wizards knew about the term let alone the rest of the supernatural. 

Peter barely refrained from gulping, refusing to show any signs of fear or regret. He didn’t regret returning, he’d even said the same thing to Stiles when he realised the price he’d paid to return. A fractured soul was better than death in his opinion. 

“I know of someone who used that particular spell seven times,” Harry admitted standing up, staring out the window and continuing, “To a point he was running on only a tiny particle of his soul…he killed and elicited the killing of thousands of people before he was stopped. He felt nothing, without his soul he was a killing machine, not that he was a stand up guy before he begun splitting his soul of course. He was a sociopath.” 

Peter’s heart was pounding away like a drum, nervousness getting the better of him. He just knew deep in his bones that this was the man who had stopped him. 

“Who was he?” Stiles asked, of course, it was Stiles he was the one who had retained the thirst for knowledge despite everything. 

“Tom Marvolo Riddle, he was better known by the name of Lord Voldemort, you will have been a bit too young to remember the ‘terrorist attacks’ that plagued England back then.” Harry explained turning back around, he didn’t even need to be a werewolf to know he had unnerved his mate so thoroughly. 

“A Mage was responsible for those attacks?” Chris asked surprised, yes, he knew about them. 

“Before the world went to hell, our people hid ourselves from the Mundane world.” Harry turned to Chris, “To save ourselves from the Witch trials that the hunters perpetrated on our kind.” Chris stiffened, his turn to become nervous more so when the Alpha’s gaze sharped in on him as if he was realizing why he was so nervous. “The magical world, wizards, witches, hags, goblins, Centaurs, Merpeople, Pixies, Mountain Trolls, werewolves, Giants, House-elves, down to magical creatures such as Dragons, Basilisk’s, Phoenix’s and of course, ghosts all hid themselves…we tried of course, to prevent the exposure, but it was too widespread, too quick, too damn televised, to the point we were useless against the mass exposure.” His hands curled into fists, gritting his teeth. 

“Witches? You’re a witch? Isn’t that another term for Darach?” Chris asked, heart pounding were they sitting next to a Darach? 

“The technical term for a male magic user of my kind is a Wizard. I was born to magical parents, born with a magical core. I’ve never had to steal in order to do magic, to compare me to a Druid or a Darach is insulting to say the least. One is a pathetic imitation and the other is an abomination.” Harry explained calmly remaining standing, “As I said before we hid ourselves, so you will need to overcome your…belief’s on those who use magic. Most wizards and witches you’ll know and be able to identify because they use wands. Most of the magic users here are either Mages or low level Sparks, speaking of…how long have you been connected to the Nemeton?” 

“Who me? I’m not,” Stiles said, staring at Harry in confusion. 

Harry arched a brow staring in disbelief, “You cannot feel the connection you share with the Nemeton? You and you alone have been keeping that particular Nemeta and it’s connecting Nemeta from dying, but the drain is becoming all too apparent, the rot is getting worse, which means more magic usage. You’ve been suffering from magical depletion, if I hadn’t found you, you would have slipped into a coma and died…draining your magic is very serious business, and the fact you’re unlimited…makes this situation even more serious than you can possibly fathom.” 

Stiles sobered and gave a grim nod, amber eyes filled with sadness, “Magic is dying,” 

“Not just magic, the world cannot be sustained without it, the hunters haven’t just killed off the supernatural but inevitably within a year or so…perhaps a little longer…maybe even less…” Harry paused letting the seriousness of what he was saying sink in, “All life on this planet will cease to exist, the trees are dying due to ground contamination, which means no oxygen…the Earth is dying…the hunters have condemned every breathing thing on this planet.” 

Marcus tightened his hold on his son, closing his eyes, he’d suspected this when he saw the conditions of the Nemeta this afternoon. 

Derek grasped a hold of his mate and bodily brought him close, curling the Spark into his body, giving and receiving comfort. The still unnamed girl threw herself at Peter, needing comfort herself, she wasn’t crying or shaking in fear, but she was scared.

“The only consolation I can offer is that we’ll be fully human when it happens, you won’t suffer,” Harry said quietly, green eyes filled with grim sadness. Their wolf healing wouldn’t have them healing repeatedly only to feel like the life was squeezing out of their lungs again and again. He would no longer have magic. “Welcome to the world we created,” a hint of sarcasm wedged in there with a whole load of resignation. His gaze was on Stiles, he would be the first to go, the potions would only work so long, and there was an understanding in those amber eyes, he was aware, resigned but worried only for those he cared about. Stiles just tightened his hold on Derek, and closed his eyes. 

The horror at those words set heavily in everyone, making them cold to their very bones, despite the warm exuding from the room. All the years of fighting for survive for what? To die of suffocation…the inability to breath within the next year? 

They were doomed, they’d always known that, but this…not like this. 

Unfortunately, it was inevitable.

Until it wasn’t. 

\------0

I wonder if any of you have cottoned on to what 'Sands of time' means :D hehe probably so if I can't tell I've got End Game on the mind ;) Inevitable hehe yeah I'm nuts! Soooo what happens next? Do we bypass all the 'history' talk - to be fair its a lot to cover and I'm not exactly an expert at it...i stopped watching after Scott became an Alpha it was hard to stomach with him as a Beta lol - and hit the desperation to get everything they need for the spell to work? Will they all go into their younger bodies? It doesn't really work if two of them end up in their younger bodies but others don't...what do you think? remain in their bodies or do they all return to their younger counterparts? Harry and Peter will probably be the only ones running around doing anything to prevent stuff due to Derek and Stiles young ages OR will it be more along the lines of having to 'pay' in some way in returning? Will Harry lose his MOD powers? or will magic gift him with a mate who will always be with him? This one admittedly isn't as well thought-out at least not until AFTER the time travel part so you'll have to bear with me until then...should they be more down having lost all they did? OR just taking what joy they could get? How you think they should be reacted? R&R please!


	4. Chapter 4

Is This The World We Created 

Chapter 4 

“…is concerning, are you sure you’re right?” came a tightly constrained voice, that was bathed in desperation that wanted to burst out, but too composed to actually outright voice that desperation. Or rather they usually were, to hear such disheartening information, well it was no surprised that they were desperate for it to be a wrong conclusion. 

Harry opened his mouth to reply, only for a knock to startle him, it was the middle of the night, who on earth would be coming to his door at this time? “Give me a moment,” he stated, turning and hastening to the door, wondering if something was wrong that they’d be summoning him…perhaps something was wrong with Stiles and he was declining again despite just having consumed a potion hours earlier. “Peter,” he said surprised to see the werewolf, “How can I help you?” 

Peter gazed around Harry, eyes suspicious and curious, cautious. “A moment of your time,” he eventually answered, there were over a dozen huge mirrors levitating in the room, all with people clearly in them, he had heard them speaking when the door opened, and they were still conversing even as he watched. It was quite mesmerising to see, they were talking through mirrors, by the moon he had never seen anything like it. 

“Come in, take a seat, there’s coffee available if you wish a cup,” Harry said, gesturing towards where the brew was stationed. Absently closing the door he moved back over to the mirrors, determined to continue his conversation. “I checked every single one in the region and then some, the main Nemeta is withering and it’s fast, the only reason it’s lasted this long was because it was bonded to…quite frankly one of the most powerful sparks I’ve ever heard of,” the sparks he had in his sanctuary weren’t capable of much, minor healing, a few defensive spells like all magical beings even sparks came in all different powers. Although, if they had bonded to a pack, had an Alpha, they would be significantly more powerful, and a few of them had in fact joined packs that had come to sanctuary making them all more powerful for it. Stiles was perhaps the real definition of what it was meant to be a spark. 

“How long do we have?” asked the defeated voice grimly. 

“Best I can work out…a year at most, the ground contamination is severe, and it’s affecting the ley lines and telluric currents causing it to spread. It was poisoned years ago, but magic isn’t easily culled, sacrifices kept it at bay, this was…inevitable.” Harry explained grimly, “With or without the supernatural being exposed.” 

“Wouldn’t a cleansing ritual set it to rights?” Hermione asked, already flipping through paperwork she had in front of her. “Surely it wouldn’t affect anyone in Britain?” 

“You’ll survive longer, yes, but only by a week at most, have you looked outside? Seen the trees? They’re dying off, and once magic starts dying off here, there will be a mad dash by everything grasping what little magic it can get in order to survive…” 

“Which could mean us?” a shrill voice asked in alarm, the thought of their magic being gone was terrifying. 

“It will mean us, wizards, witches, Druids, sparks…anything with an ounce of magical ability will lose their magic, which in turn will cease anything remotely magic about them, werewolves will lose their ability to shift, use magic, and those primarily made up of magic…will perish first. Pixies and other creatures attracted to magic I predict.” Harry informed them. 

“The cleansing ritual?” asked the shrill voice from before, sounding a little calmer. 

“It might buy us a few weeks, given the extent of the damage, I think the tree has done all it can to survive and it’s just giving up…the amount of magic it would require to cleanse for a fortnight survive it would mean at least thirty wizards and this is all just a guess, it might be more. To make matters worse, the Nemeta is in Beacon Hills.” 

Peter watched everyone’s reaction to the name with rapid fascination and growing concern. If they had been werewolves they would have most assuredly been growling and snarling sub vocally. They loathed Beacon Hills with an intensity that even he couldn’t fathom. 

“A great deal of the hunter population seem to gravitate towards that area,” Harry added, “I am not quite sure why…but I just dealt with over a dozen hunters with thirty more closing in before I left. That was in just one area, and they were militias about it too.” 

“I know the answer to that,” Peter said smoothly, as he sipped on his cup, barely refraining from reacting when he suddenly had intense gazes of everyone in the mirror and Harry on him. 

“Everyone is this Peter Hale, my mate,” Harry said, surprising Peter with his open frankness, “Peter, from left to right, Hermione Granger, current location England. Jamie Mackenzie, Scotland, Aeron Thomas, Wales and Dean Thomas Ireland. Mia Thomson, Canada, Noah Brown and Zeynep Brown, Turkey and William Smith from France, Maria Garcia, Spain, James Johnson and Zuzanna Johnson Poland, Daisy Hernandez, Mexico.” Quickly introducing the rest of them. “Amelia Curry, Timothy, Liam, Antony, Steven, Lilian and Julia are from various states in America.” 

They didn’t speak, just watched him with a feral intensity waiting for him to answer. 

“The tree was always alive and thriving when my sister, Talia Hale was Alpha,” Peter revealed honestly, “We never had much trouble except from the occasional feral Omega and opportunists trying to settle into Beacon Hills. We were an old, very much established pack, not many desired to go against us in a fight not even for a place with an abundance of power.” 

Peter took another drink before continuing, the warmth was a godsend, “Something happened after my sisters death, the tree was poisoned, withering, sometime in a six year window perhaps longer I cannot say for certain, the memory of the Nemeta was taken from both myself and my nephew both of us Beta’s at the time.” 

“Then when did you become aware of it again?” Hermione asked Peter. 

“Saturday, September, fifteenth, 2011,” Peter answered blankly, barely even needing to think. 

“That’s awfully, specific,” Hermione admitted, not sure whether to be impressed or wary. 

“Hard to forget,” Peter answered wryly, having sent a lot of time in either a coma or Eichen house, he always tried to make sure he knew the date. Also not only had his return weakened him, but the blood moon eclipse had rendered him completely powerless. Human. Without the safety of pack…with an Alpha pack after them, it had been terrifying. Thankfully the outcome had been favourable, and he had successfully…let off some steam by killing at least one of the threats to the minuscule Hale pack. When he had told Stiles that Derek was like Scott, he hadn’t been kidding, he had let the remaining members of the Alpha pack live, but he had been manipulated, still reeling over the latest betrayal and usage of his body against his will and Peter had ensured it wouldn’t happen again. That sort of magic remained, regardless of the thrall being gone. He wasn’t taking any chances when it came to Cora and Derek’s safety. He might not have shown it, at least not properly, but he cared about them both, his actions spoke louder than words. He had remained. Stayed in a town where he had burnt until he was near death, only to spend six years in a coma as an omega. Showing more consideration to his family than they had shown to him. Only after Laura was killed did Derek visit him, six long years he was alone it still hurt, but he covered it up with anger and rage “It wasn’t just a Nemeta after that, it was a beacon, it drew in supernatural’s in droves, a few not even knowing they were supernatural to begin with.” 

Harsh indrawn of breaths met his statement. 

“It became a death drawer, hoping against hope to have something supernatural to pull from, strong enough to sustain it, sacrifices to save it.” Harry nodded, unsurprised, “The Nemeta has been through hell and back, and the unbelievable pain it is in…I don’t understand how a Druid could let it happen.” 

“You speak of it as through it’s sentient,” Peter murmured a thoughtful frown on his face. 

“That’s because it is, all magic is sentient, Peter, even the other Nemeta, they have minds of their own, certain levels of intelligence or at the very least instincts.” Harry explained. 

“Would a cleansing draught help?” Hermione pondered. 

Harry visibly became exasperated and annoyed, “You’re all thinking short term, we need a plan for the long term. These actions are only going to see us surviving for a few extra weeks a month at most.” 

“What do you suggest, Harry? We’re trying out best here,” Hermione sighed, tiredness clearly coating her voice and her face was haggard. 

“With all the resources we have, bring them to bear, try and find something that will send one of us back in time.” Harry stated firmly, “If we don’t have something come up with a ritual, something, anything, to save us all.” 

Peter’s eyes narrowed in on Harry shrewdly, wondering why he wasn’t sharing his own resources. Then again, he wouldn’t be either, he’d be the one that wanted to accomplish it, go back in time and all. Then again Peter had no idea the respect Harry Potter held within the magical world. 

“We all wanted to do that Harry, but there is nothing that could send up back in time, and time-turners only go back twenty-four hours and the Aurors did that to begin with, it did not help.” Mia Thomson said, her voice soft and soothing, she didn’t like conflict. 

“Have you all already given up? Is this what you want your last stand to be? Standing there unable to breath as the world dies around us? As we die?” Harry said firmly, “We are wizards and witches, some of the most capable minds in the supernatural world, prodigies, IQ’s off the charts…at least try to come up with something we have absolutely nothing to lose! This isn’t just about trying to save what we can of the supernatural now…it’s our very survival, and the survival of magic. It was gifted to all of us for a reason, do not let magic down, do not let yourselves down, now get some sleep, think on it, read, and we will get together next week and have a brainstorming session. If it doesn’t work out at least we would have given it our all to try and survive to save the world.” Declared Harry with passion, the same passion that had seen them enacting dozens and dozens of supernatural sanctuaries all over the world one after another. 

Peter watched amused, that little speech seemed to do the trick, as they came alive, determined, strong, resolute at the words of Harry’s conviction. 

“You’re right Harry, we never give up,” Hermione said slowly, “We’ll do what we can with the resources we have and come up with something.” Always, always the first to believe in Harry, although she had contradicted him a few times herself and been proven right, the incident with Sirius Black came to mind although she never minded him of it, he carried that guilt regardless. 

“Get some rest,” Harry said softly, an unbearable fondness for the witch. “Rest well,” half of them were just starting their day so he didn’t say goodnight. 

Suddenly everyone was muttering ‘Deactivate’ and the mirrors were going blue before Harry’s gaze appeared in some fashion in them all. A wave of Harry’s wand the mirrors flew to the opposite end of the room, slotting carefully beside the desk, put away for the moment. “That was a very…inspiring speech,” 

Harry just tried to smile but it came out more a grimace. 

“Now why after all this time…do you want to ‘brainstorm’ as it were? you’ve had this spell for well, a while at least…” Peter said smoothly, standing up, regarding Harry with suspicion. “You’ve gotten a part you need for the spell and the only thing I can deduce is that you intend to use Stiles,” mate or not, he’d never allow anything to happen to Stiles. His claws unconsciously emerged, ready to do whatever he had to in order to protect Stiles. 

“Yes,” Harry made no effort to lie, “Use is a nefarious term, I would never even to save the world…sacrifice someone, unless it was myself.” He was not like Dumbledore. 

Peter took a step back almost bewildered, he wasn’t lying. “Why do you need Stiles?” he then asked, watching Harry turn his back on him. Foolish move, he had seen how defensive he was of his pack, he had to know just because they were mates it didn’t make him safe? 

“Most of the sparks here…their powers didn’t activate until their lives were in danger, their…cores are very small, their belief in their abilities is infinitesimal. They hadn’t been aware of the supernatural until it was on the television. Some have become more powerful after joining packs here, in order to bolster their own powers to help others and the pack obviously gained power themselves from it. Stiles however, I don’t think you can comprehend the scope of his power and his belief. He’s been keeping the Nemeta going for who knows how long and keeping your pack safe simultaneously,” Harry said, sitting back down, once again facing Peter there was no awe or amazement just matter-of-fact statement. “Potentially, he could draw the remaining power from the Nemeta’s and allow for someone to go back in time. Potentially more than one person…the kind of power required to send someone back in time who knows how many years would be gigantic and while we have magical implements to aid us…in the end its about raw power.” 

“Again why didn’t you let them know?” Peter asked again, joining him, sitting on the other side, directly facing him. He knew if the Alpha had been here, he wouldn’t have gotten away with demanding answers. He was well aware that despite not being a werewolf or an Alpha that this wizard, his mate, was in fact the leader. Perhaps not just of this particular sanctuary, given the conversations he had just observed. 

“Nobody is to know about Stiles,” Harry stated firmly, “With the exception of your pack, of course. Desperation can…lead to a lot of unpleasantness. Makes you act irrationally, and while I know everyone here…this new news could cause friction, the last thing we want is anyone trying to enact it themselves and getting everyone killed.” Trying to force a spark to do anything was…suicidal, especially as one as powerful and wilful as Stiles was. He might not have had much of an interaction with the guy, but he had seen his determination, wilfulness and personality shine through. He had to be strong in order to be the heart of the Hale pack. 

Peter stiffened at the suggestion, and immediately gave a nod of understanding. Oh, yes, he knew what desperation could lead to, the feral-ness that left the person feeling they had no other choice. He had endured it once before, and it wasn’t something he’d wish on anyone. In this case ignorance was not only bliss but required, Stiles life might depend on it. 

Harry wouldn’t even tell his own people, while he himself held strong to his morals, he wasn’t sure if the others would. This war had changed everyone, even himself, to a certain extent. No, it was better if nobody knew about Stiles, safer that way. This might be their one and only chance to save the world. 

“Which is where your fascination for Beacon Hills came from,” Peter murmured in realization, these plans he had been determined to see them through, getting any scrap of information about the place in order to best know when to return to. “A determined wizards last stand.” 

Harry just grinned tiredly at him, “Yeah, I have never given in easily or at all,” too bull-headed for that, even as hopeless as it seemed, not once had he given up. Not during the war with Voldemort when it looked at its bleakest. Yawning tiredly, rubbing at his face, the scraping of hair the only thing heard as Harry rubbed at his cheeks and chin tiredly. “How are they?” he asked, enquiring about the rest of his pack. 

“Sleeping,” Peter replied immediately, properly sleeping for the first time in weeks, Derek had been too afraid that Stiles would pass in his sleep and barely ate or slept. Focusing near obsessively and constantly on Stiles rabbiting heartbeat. Not that the rest of the pack had it any easier, too worried the spells would fade and they’d be vulnerable. That wasn’t including the worry and fear they had for Stiles’ sickness itself, much like werewolves, Sparks magic made sure he didn’t get sick, it protected them against most things. So they knew whatever it was, it couldn’t be good. 

“Shouldn’t you be doing the same thing?” Harry asked, before reassuring his mate, “Nothing can get through the wards, not even ammunitions or projectiles. We secured the place from top to bottom, nobody even knows the ranch exists, we’ve survived bombs detonating close to this place…and humans cant perceive sanctuary. Even if they had someone extremely powerful on their side it would not matter, the wards were cast with my blood, blood wards can only be removed by the castor. Go get some sleep, we’ll talk in the morning.” He had put them in the tent for tonight, the very magical tent and had got to see their reactions to magic, they’d be moved to the newly built cabin or if they preferred the attic rooms which had just been finished also. 

Harry stood, gesturing for Peter to follow him, and they both silently made their way back downstairs of the property, and outside. Both easily avoiding the vegetable patches and trees, Harry plucked two pears from the tree offering one to Peter, who didn’t pass up the chance to eat. He didn’t think he ever would again, once he settled down and listened to everyone sleep, he’d been near enough in a food coma himself but he couldn’t sleep, too unsettled and the unknown had worried him. 

“Why such a negative reaction to just hearing the name Beacon Hills?” Peter asked, before biting into the admittedly delicious pear. Surprised he could fit anything more into his stomach, sure, werewolves always ate more, but it had been a long time since they’d been capable of filling their stomachs. 

They continued to walk, “I think most people would obliterate that town if they could,” Harry said, the tent in view. “It’s primarily to do with Scott McCall, the hated transferred from the person to the town as well. I don’t think there’s one person left in the world who didn’t wish they had the ability to go back and kill the idiot.” He’d revealed the supernatural world that had remained hidden from view forever. 

Peter stiffened, thankfully unnoticed by Harry, or so he thought. 

“I know you obviously grew up there, and the place probably has a lot of fond memories but that’s the reality of it.” Harry added, assuming that Peter was angry and defensive due to the town. 

Peter snorted derisively, “You couldn’t be more wrong,” he sneered, not at Harry in particular, but the situation, he loathed the fact he had bitten Scott McCall. It used to be he wished he’d bitten Stiles instead, who was definitely preferable to the two. Stiles had been healthy, he’d gone after a Beta who he thought he could manipulate after making him well, someone who should have been grateful. He’d been feral, desperate, with the new Alpha powers coursing through his already shattered mind. He couldn’t remember the good times, he just couldn’t, it hurt too much. How lax they had been…how unprepared, how stupid. 

Green eyes met blue, “And that wouldn’t surprise me,” Harry said sombrely, vibrant and understanding, with a whole slew of empathy. Stepping forward, he pressed a kiss to Peter’s check, unable to help himself, the desire to do more was almost overwhelming. Fortunately, he was an adult, not an impulsive little boy, and so too was Peter. Although it was certainly fucked up that they’d meet in this situation, the circumstances weren’t ideal but this was the world they were living in. “Sleep, you’re safe, we’ll talk tomorrow, you’re all welcome to have breakfast with me,” he promised, with that he turned and walked away, it was difficult to walk away from his mate, but he knew he wouldn’t be welcomed in the pack den. He was an unknown, a stranger, and Peter needed his pack, the reassurance he could only get from them. They’d been together through all this, being away from the rest of the pack had to be painful, worrisome. The only reason he’d came to him was because he was worried, the questions he’d been asking and digging for clearly portrayed that.

Harry had no idea what was coming, or the horror that the Hales had endured long before the world had gone to shit but he was going to find out.

\-----0

As soon as everyone in the pack was awake, Peter had requested Stiles to put up wards to prevent anyone hearing anything they said. Taking Harry’s words to heart, that nobody must know about Stiles. Peter then immediately regaled them with the new information he’d learned. Everything he’d observed from Harry’s meeting to everything that had been said. Cora wrapped around her uncle like a koala, something she’d used to do as a child. She started back up before the world went to hell, although, she had just lost her second pack when she started it up, managing yet again, to get away when everyone else died. That left a mark on her that made her feel as if she was cursed. Nowadays, before this, they’d been too busy to think too much, which helped Cora come back to them.

“He really thinks that I have the power to send people back in time?” Stiles asked pensively, unlike the others he wasn’t outright dismissing Time-travel as a fairy tale and fools hope. Well, not everyone, Derek had been silent, as he often was when magic was being brought up. He knew a lot from everything Stiles explained, and didn’t outright dismiss anything without Peter or Stiles input trusting that they knew what they were talking about. They had extensive experience when it came to magic after all. 

“To help aid the ritual, he has the magical implements that are required, yes, but he evidently needs a power boost from the Nemeta to go far enough back.” Peter informed him, brow furrowed, absently brushing Cora’s hair away from her face. “There was no lie in his heartbeat, but it might be due to his own belief that he can do it, whether it can be done or not remains to be seen.” He had come back from the dead, there wasn’t much magic wasn’t actually capable of. So yes, he believed it might be theoretically possible to accomplish it, it had never been done or if it had, it was a tightly guarded secret and presumably the person who did the deed died with the knowledge. IF, if it had been done to begin with. 

“Look there’s nobody more than us who wish we could go back in time,” Chris argued, a pained look on his face, “But we need to face facts, its bullshit…something like this would have been found! Used!” 

“I don’t know Chris…I mean it requires a wizard who’s been dead…who’s Mastered Death I don’t know exactly what it means but it isn’t normal, not even by magical standards. If I died I wouldn’t come back,” Stiles refuted his belief, soothing Derek who let out a pained whine at the thought of losing Stiles for a second. “At least not by normal means, I don’t know, I need to talk to him and figure this all out.” 

Chris and thereby Isaac, still looked dubious over the prospect. 

Liam just lay spread eagle in the pile, dozing lightly but listening as they spoke. He didn’t give his opinion, just relishing in everything being good for now. He didn’t think on what had been revealed yesterday, he didn’t want to. 

“Chris, do you trust me?” Stiles asked seriously, his face filled with fire and determination, the same fire and determination that had kept them safe this long. 

“You know I do,” Chris sighed, resigned to going along with their crazy schemes, it wouldn’t be the first time either. Back all those years ago, he had never thought for a second he would be part of a wolf pack let alone fond of every single of them. They had his back the way his own family hadn’t, they showed they cared, his mother, father, sister and even his own wife barely showed any hint of emotion. And Allison would have been raised the same way as him if he hadn’t decided he didn’t want to have Allison wondering constantly if she was loved. Gosh, Victoria had been so bitingly cold, even to her own daughter, it was little wonder she had been drawn to the pack, the love, affect and attention the comradery was like nothing else. it just took a long time for him to see it, but Alison hadn’t seen the darker side of the supernatural so it was quite clearly easier for her. He had an entire lifetime of prejudice shoved down his throat to fight before he could find some semblance of peace. 

“Then lets not write it off until we know for sure…because if there is a chance…even a slim one…we have to take it,” Stiles said, “We wouldn’t just be saving ourselves but we’d be saving the world.” Unknowingly echoing Harry’s sentiments from last night. 

“Isaac?” Stiles then turned to the werewolf, who despite his age still clung to any positive influence in his life. It was almost like he had never grown up, staying the age he was when he was turned into a werewolf. Oh, everything that had happened had affected him, but emotionally he was still an abused boy. Stiles had spoke to Derek and Peter about it, wondering it was a werewolf thing, but Peter and Derek said being a werewolf heightened your emotions but he should have calmed down and became centred within the first few years of the change. The fact he hadn’t wasn’t anything to do with the supernatural but Isaac’s inability to get passed everything his father had done to him. He hadn’t allowed himself to expand, grow and live, to have a partner. Liam himself was more mature than Isaac which said a lot. 

“How would it work anyway? We don’t even know when the tree was poisoned,” Isaac pointed out, “And whatever power we have might not go back far enough even if it IS possible.” 

“Something to be discussed with the guy,” Stiles reassured him. 

“That might be true, but we have a good idea as to when,” Peter said thoughtfully speaking to Isaac before glancing at Stiles, “Which remind me, he offered to allow us to eat breakfast with him if you’re inclined to speak to him.” 

“He’s your mate, don’t you want to spend time with him?” Stiles asked, “Just the two of you?” he knew from experience how the full felt, Derek and he had gone through the same thing, and it had hurt Derek a great deal to be away from him until the bond settled. Then again Peter and Harry weren’t bonded yet. It didn’t help that Derek had been through trauma and had severe trust issues. 

Peter recalled Harry’s actions last night, while he was clear Harry did wish to spend time with him…he understood the importance of pack. Knew intimately how Peter was feeling, and knew no doubt, that he wouldn’t have been welcomed into their ‘den’ and Harry had made it clear from the tent flap – never once entering when he was showing them – that it was theirs to do as they liked, and even that it might be a temporarily accommodation depending on what they wanted in future. “He knows the pack comes first,” Peter eventually diplomatically stated, which wasn’t like him, but quite frankly he wasn’t sure what to make of Harry or this situation they’d found themselves in. 

“I am hungry,” Liam murmured, “Do you think we’ll get a big breakfast?” or was it a onetime thing with them appearing as they did? He wouldn’t be surprised if it was a one time thing, food was scarce, not easily gotten, and how they managed to cook the food they’d had earlier…he didn’t even begin to comprehend. Obviously magic was involved, there was no other way to cook something like a Turkey by a wooden fire was there? Not without it ending up something rotten to eat and charred to pieces. 

“Let’s go find out,” Derek stated, when the others looked to him – except Peter – for guidance. As much as Isaac loved Chris – like a son to a father – he wasn’t a werewolf, and Derek had been at one point Isaac’s Alpha, so it wasn’t so surprising that Isaac actually listened to Derek whether on a conscious or unconscious level. 

With that, the group who had all slept in their clothes, began to put their shoes on. The ‘tent’ had five rooms in total, all divided by simple yellow netting that you can see through. There were two additional ‘curtains’ that were thicker tied up at the ends so one can get more privacy if they desired it. It was redundant with werewolves anyway, there was no real privacy to be had. They hadn’t used the ‘room’s’ instead they’d elected to lay on the floor, something Harry had predicted they’d prefer and the living room had one massive mattress, that was bigger than two queens joined together. It still gave them enough room to walk around, without falling over too. Which when it came to Stiles it was a distinct possibility nonetheless. Not that Stiles had been overly animated still recovering from his bout of consciousness for over a week which had left him weak. 

The second they stepped over the threshold, the sanctuary burst into sound, causing them to startle badly. Stiles stepped back and forth with a sort of gleeful look on his face. His silencing caused no noise to get out of the bubble, but they still heard all noise on the outside. So to see it obviously going both ways was just another sign of magic and like all times it pleased Stiles to no end. 

“That was disconcerting,” Peter admitted, but also impressed. They’d thought they were the first ones up, but it was clear they were not. A group of shifted werewolves were busy with woodwork and the foundations of another cabin was clearly being made. In the tree line there was Centaurs exchanging food with some sort of blue creature with wings, some sort of mutant Pixie? It bobbed away, clearly unburdened by the weight of the basket it had taken from the Centaur. Others were busy picking fruit from trees or digging into the vegetable patch. The pups were shrieking happily playing in a large paddling pool, some of them even shifted, and it wasn’t raising any brows nobody seemed even the slightest bit perturbed and it was the best thing he’d ever seen. To think there were dozens upon dozens of more of these sanctuaries set up all over the world was…phenomenal. This…this world he was suddenly getting to know…Pixies and Centaurs, was this what Stiles felt when the supernatural world was revealed to him? He’d thought nothing could excite him anymore, make him awed or feel much of anything but right now he was proven wrong. 

“What a waste of water,” Chris said staring at the pool of water slightly aghast. It didn’t look like it had been drawn from a body of water, like a river, wasn’t really dirty, although there were grains of dirt in the bottom presumably from where the kids were getting in and out. 

“Which way?” Liam asked, unable to sniff out their own scents to backtrack towards Harry’s room, too many people and come and gone, their scent stopped right where they were. The pups had been rolling around in the mud by the looks of it, perhaps why there was a swimming pool for them today. He’d been injured so neither he or Stiles actually knew the way, but Peter had obviously sought him out to talk to him last night before all their scents were wiped away.

Peter was almost, almost reluctant to go, he just wanted to sit and observe, learn all he could about these new creatures he was in the same sanctuary with. Desired to know what they were and what they could do. After giving the area one last sweep, eyes going wide at the sight of what could only be a giant ripping a tree from it’s roots and taking it over to the werewolves and someone else in turn planting four trees to replace the one just unrooted. This was going to be the most interesting place he’d ever seen, and he had travelled a bit. 

Unfortunately, there was something much more pressing to deal with, a potential future to save for them all. Plus, all the books that had been on the shelves, he wouldn’t find a better place to find out about everyone. They’d saved knowledge as well as people and he respected that. 

When they finally made it to Harry’s room, they found the door was open and he wasn’t eating breakfast at all. He looked to be busy perusing dozens of books, writing away, the second Liam made a noise, a soft one of unhappiness that there was no food, Harry’s head jerked up, surprise flittering over the green eyes, it was almost as if he didn’t expect them to come, which made Peter wonder if he ever had company or if it was just the lack of time he had for social interaction. 

“Good morning,” came the dulcet tone, “Hungry?” he asked them, giving them a serious look, at the blatant snort from Isaac and Liam Harry frowned, “Even werewolves who have come here have ended up sick from eating too much and their stomachs rebelling against them. Refeeding syndrome is a very serious matter, you can still get all the symptoms you just lack the ability to die from them.” 

“Werewolves can get Refeeding syndrome?” Stiles asked stepping in utterly too curious for his own good. “I would have thought their healing would stop any symptoms from showing!” he exclaimed before explaining exactly what Refeeding syndrome was to the clueless group, even Chris seemed oblivious to what it was. which did surprise Stiles, but considering Isaac and Liam had both been human they should have known what it was too. 

“Yes, but you’re forgetting they aren’t working at full speed, due to their inability to find a lot to eat, they aren’t getting the energy they need on a daily basis for the exercise they do.” Harry pointed out amused, laughing a little into his hands when Isaac and Liam exclaimed excitedly when the food came. Putting his pen down, and flexing his hand, stretching out a little, the bags prominent under his eyes, showing the lack of sleep he’d had. 

“How do they know we’re here?” Derek asked suspiciously, that definitely wasn’t food for one person. He grunted as he was elbowed in the stomach by his mate. 

Harry stared at Derek, wondering just what he had been through in order to be so damn suspicious of every little thing. Had pack betrayed him? it was…inconceivable really, to think that, pack was family. The others weren’t as suspicious so perhaps not? Either that or they just weren’t showing it, too grateful to be overly suspicious. “I informed the House-elves that I might have company, and the House-elves are very much aware of every single being under my care, under my wards. So they know how much to cook so that everyone gets breakfast,” although it had been a nightmare to teach them not to waste a single damn thing. They couldn’t afford it, but with preservation charms they had persevered.

“House-elves? Are they like the Elves out of lord of the rings?” Stiles asked in a rush, eyes gleaming brightly, as he took a seat. There was a hash brown, a sausage, bit of bacon an egg two slices of toast – bread!!! – and a spoonful of beans and a portion of scrambled egg. Nothing over the top like yesterdays meal, but it was more than they’d had in a long time. 

Harry just blinked blankly, “I have no idea,” he’d never read Lord Of The Rings or anything remotely Mundane since he was eleven years old. Even before that, all he had was his school books, the Dursley’s certainly hadn’t bought anything for him. Plus, if it had elves in it, chances were, it would have been banned from the Dursley’s household anyway, magic wasn’t even allowed to be mentioned without severe consequences. The Mundane seem to like making the supernatural cute, he noticed, like mermaids, now those fuckers weren’t like Arial from the little mermaid. 

Everyone else followed Stiles lead, Derek as always following his mate, sticking close to him unable to bear being away from him, even doing something simple as eating breakfast. He’d almost lost him, it would take a while to loose the extreme protective tendencies or rather draw them in. 

“Oh! Do you have a book about the different kind of people you have here?” Stiles asked, causing Peter to pout comically at the words. 

“You mean magical creatures I presume?” Harry asked, standing up from his seat and ambling towards the books on his shelf, “There are all kinds of books available in the library, they’re all copies of my own books and others I’ve managed to copy over time. They’re all magical, although we do have a big collection of Mundane children books, that have been brought in over time.” Plucking one particular book from the shelf and copying it twice, before replacing the real copy and wandering over to Stiles and handing him one and Peter the other with a smirk. 

Stiles gaped at the blatant magical display and the fact it came so easy and quickly, and added to the fact he hadn’t thought of copying books before. Just to see if he could, Stiles focused on his own magic, closing his eyes focusing fully and to his delight it worked, he absently checked to make sure it was perfect before sitting back smugly. Rather proud of himself. 

“Eat your breakfast,” Derek said, poking Stiles in the side, to get his focus, knowing if he didn’t Stiles would get sucked down into a research binge and probably read the entire book while his food got cold. He needed to eat, he had lost too much weight. “Uncle Peter,” Derek then grumbled in annoyance, since he too was trying to read the book. 

Cora sniggered as she ate, it was the most normal morning they’d had in such a long time that Cora loved it. 

Peter simply rolled his eyes and closed the book, but as always a pang of warmth hit him whenever Derek or Cora used his full title. They hadn’t for the longest time, and if they did it was with derision, not the whining tone or exasperated ones they had as children. It didn’t help that those were the last words his niece had ever said to him, not that he’d told Derek or Cora that piece of information. The note of surprise and astonishment in Laura’s tone, so surprised to see him up and about after abandoning him in a cesspit for six years. 

“How do you have enough to feed so many people?” Cora asked, nothing defensive in her tone just simple curiosity. 

“We have a breeding programme, working closely with the other sanctuaries, eggs are the easiest to get, the chicks grow fast…much like rabbits in that way. We make sure that no animal is bred with its own sibling or close family, it just results in animals that are…deformed and with an abundance of problems that usually result in death. Something we can do without, so they’re spread around sanctuaries and we in turn get some ourselves and the breeding continues giving us more than enough animals to ensure our survival. You’ll find quite a mixture of meats here, not all of them American, some British some even Australian, Kangaroo meat is rather tasty, cross between venison and buffalo meat,” Werewolves and many other creatures need meat, it was just that simple. “It’s on the menu tonight, actually, so you’ll get your taste.” He informed them as he and the others continued to consume their breakfast with great gusto. 

“What can we do to help?” Isaac asked, staring at Harry starry eyed, causing Peter to roll his eyes, Luna help them, it looked as though Isaac had found himself another person to latch onto. He couldn’t help but ponder Harry’s possible reactions to that, as he ate at a much more leisurely pace than yesterday’s rushed meal.

“There are always things that require doing here at Sanctuary, and there is a board in the hallway that lists everything everyone has to do each day.” Harry stated firmly, there was nobody getting to freeload here, “Sometimes its just one thing other times its two or three, nothing more than six chores a day. From milking the cows, churning butter, washing and drying the clothes, making the bread, taking out food to those that live in the forest, and getting food back in turn a lot of berries, picking up vegetables, helping construct cabins for more room for everyone and of course, more animals. Sometimes it’s something as simple as taking the animals for a walk, the dogs and horses. The kids normally exhaust the dogs and wolves while playing, but they’re only allowed out after breakfast.” 

“Wait you waste food on dogs?” Liam asked aghast and slightly disgusted without really meaning it. All those long years they’d hungered and starved, it just irked him that dogs were better fed than him. 

“They primarily live off entrails of the animals we kill or meat that we don’t tend to eat, and of course kibble, which is down to its last few bags, so we’re giving them a little less,” Harry stated bluntly, “There aren’t a lot of them, so they’re well fed with what they get.” They weren’t used for breeding to eat or anything else other than they were found, rescued and saved or came in with packs. Not that it mattered much, every single thing on this planet was destined to die if they couldn’t figure out how to go back and stop it. 

“Dogs do not deserve your derision, according to the human population you’re lower down the food totem pole, they’d rather feed a dog over you or I. They still feel hunger, still feel pain, they aren’t lesser to anyone, and I had better not see you destress any living thing in sanctuary because you will blow it not only for yourself but your entire pack.” Harry warned sternly, green eyes gleaming, as if he could see into the heart of Liam and knew of his…violent tendencies. He knew the pack would go with Liam if he was kicked out, and it would be their decision, but Harry could not let anyone get away with breaking the rules, it would cause anarchy if he allowed it, discord. 

That elicited a silence that was bordering on very uncomfortable with the threat of being kicked out, and it might have only been a single day but even they knew how much better off they were here and now than out there unable to sleep without an eye open and at least two people on guard. The thought of leaving here, for Derek was terrifying, Harry had been able to make Stiles better, whereas if they’d continued on as they had – as they had to – his mate would have slipped into a coma and died. As suspicious as he was of everything, even he acknowledged that, and he’d be grateful for that. He just wasn’t one with the capabilities of showing that. 

Liam paled, would he ever leave his past behind? He wasn’t that young frustrated boy anymore. Never mind the fact the guy seemed to know more about his past than should be possible. It wasn’t as if he had trouble controlling his shift, which begged the question how did he know? 

“If you ever feel the need to let off some steam, you can join the others training, it’s more of a…fun tournament to get rid of pent up energy than any real defensive training for the ones that don’t do patrolling.” Harry informed him, “Although, a few Alphas have allowed their seconds to do one-on-one training for those who desire to do better. Alpha’s obviously cannot partake because the injuries take significantly much longer to heal.” 

“You can read minds?” Stiles asked, wary to the extreme, “You’re a telepath?” he wasn’t the only one to actually react to that news. They all became stiff and ready to flee at any moments notice. Especially Chris, he knew the extreme hatred all supernatural’s had against hunters, and he honestly couldn’t blame them considering what had happened.

Not that Harry seemed to mind, his lips were quirking up in amusement, as he stared at them, “No, not a telepath,” Harry said sighing in exasperation, “That’s not to say I couldn’t read someone’s mind if the mood struck, magic is a many varied subject and can just about do anything. Having magic of your own you’d probably notice, I don’t make a habit of reading peoples thoughts, although it would have saved me a great deal of trouble over the years if I had.” The sanctuary hadn’t always been a smooth sailing place, but he’d learned, and when he warned he only gave one warning. 

Stiles nodded solemnly, completely agreeing with that assessment, it would have been better. 

“You’ve been doing research, I assume your previous assessment still holds true? One year?” Peter asked, changing the subject. 

“Less,” Harry informed him seriously, rubbing his eyes, “Given the damage the hunters have been doing…I guesstimated the population, the trees, the rot and the length of time it will take to wither completely, both Mundane trees and Magical trees I put it anywhere between six to ten months. Even if we went out planting what trees we could it wouldn’t be enough to live as Mundane’s once magic is banished. I honestly don’t even know if its possible to survive having your magic ripped from you as it dies.” And the most terrifying thought for him was what if he survived as everyone else perished as MOD? It was more than terrifying, not even his Occlumency barriers could stop that fear from leaching out, allowing the werewolves to feel what Harry was experiencing right now. 

Stiles shuddered, he’d been using magic daily for years, maybe not a whole lot like Harry but he did magic to protect what was his and that was enough. “Okay, okay, so you said it’s possible to do this time-travel three-knot spell/ritual…where would we get the phoenix tears, feather and sand of time? Do phoenixes even exist?”

“The sands of time is sand from a time-turner,” Harry explained plucking one from his desk, it wasn’t the only one he had. “This has the ability to send you back exactly twenty-four hours in time, its imbued with some seriously powerful magic, they can’t be duplicated in any way, its perfectly ordinary sand just with an inordinate amount of magic poured into it that allows time to be turned back.” 

Cora, Isaac and Liam all gaped, it was a near thing for Peter and Derek and Chris just shook his head. “I can feel it, the power in it, it’s almost vibrating with it.” 

Harry frowned, “Sparks should only be able to sense their own kind of power…hmm, it might explain why they’d never been able to be duplicated.” The Ministry of magic hoarded what they had, back in the day, before all of them tried to beat back the hunters using Obliviates and dropping like flies from gunshots. Unable to get the better of them, then in hiding it was. “There may have been a Spark in the magical world at one point, either that or they were commissioned by a seriously powerful Spark.” 

“But the other things? Phoenix tears and feathers?” Stiles asked, hope beginning to thrum through him. 

“Do not panic,” Harry told Peter, very aware of his reaction to fire, for reasons he didn’t know yet. “Fawkes?” Harry called, and a great ball of fire shot into the room, red and gold overwhelming everyone’s senses before a beautiful phoenix stood on the table, thrilling softly, as awe spread across all their faces and the soothing song relaxed them, made them feel good in a way they hadn’t felt in so long. 

\--------0

A/N – Well there we go! An update that’s 3K longer than usual I hope you enjoyed it, this was meant to be the whole Hale history dragged into this story too but evidently it wasn’t meant to be, I do hope myself that it doesn’t take up to twenty chapters to have them going back BUT I do want world building before its done so we know what they’ve left behind, what they want to prevent…so will Scott be killed? Or will the past be changed enough that just after he should have been bitten Scott McCall dies of a severe asthma attack? Would Stiles be able to do that? Even to save his father? So timeline of when they go back : Either before Deucalion’s attack : Paige being killed : Hale house fire? They’re primarily there to prevent the tree being poisoned and do what must be done to prevent the earth from dying and the supernatural exposure comes secondary…shocking I know but what’s the point in helping one if the others inevitable anyway? Oh and imprisoned or killed Argents? I’ve done them all quite liberally, and in different ways too 😉 so it’s up to you guys :D :D R&R please!


	5. Chapter 5

Is This The World We Created 

Chapter 5 

“Meet Fawkes,” Harry said softly, already looking marginally better, despite the lack of sleep, the stress lines that had been present dying away. “He’s a phoenix, and resides primarily in Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry in the mountains of Scotland, our magical school. And yes, it’s still used as a school, not as filled as it used to be, but the families of those children attending the school get to remain there while the child is taught how to control their magic giving them a measure of protection they wouldn’t get elsewhere. He and I bonded not long after his previous owner died.” Stroking his hand up and down his red wing. 

“That’s a phoenix?” Stiles asked, staring at it in awe, but he couldn’t help but think it had many characteristics of a chicken. Admittedly a very beautiful and colourful chicken, magical to boot. 

“He’s a phoenix yes,” Harry said watching the group amused, “They’re capable of carrying immensely heavy loads and their tears…have healing powers, they heal even the most grievous injuries instantaneously,” 

“It’s like a miniature werewolf then,” Liam snorted, grinning widely, showing he meant to offence, he blanched when the phoenix stared at him, flapping it’s wings, no…it was just a coincidence surely? 

“He saved my life once,” Harry said with a fond grin, he’d thought Fawkes looked like a chicken the first time he encountered him so being called a miniature werewolf was almost a compliment, although by the look of it Fawkes didn’t think so. 

Peter arched a brow, slotting that information away for future perusal. Wondering what had happened that his mates life needed saving…considering the world they lived in…was it truly surprising? 

“Why what happened?” Stiles asked, his desire for any information was well known by his pack, so none were surprised by it. Nobody missed the glance Stiles shot Peter, he was surprised the Zombiewolf hadn’t actually already asked. Then again Peter had the habit of springing questions on you completely out of the blue, best way to get an honest answer out of someone. 

“I was poisoned by a basilisk,” Harry said dryly, watching their eyes widen in astonishment, “Very fast acting poison that kills the recipients within minutes, luckily Fawkes was nearby.” Was all he offered on that front, having no desire to get into the entire story. Luckily they had no idea just how big a damn Basilisk was, just a general idea that it was a snake no doubt. 

“You really think you can go back in time?” Isaac asked incredulously, breaking the rather comforting break they’d had with Fawkes. 

“I can go back in time,” Harry stated, “But I need a power boost in order to actually accomplish that.” and coming from him it said a lot considering the power he had at his disposal. “I am not connected to a Nemeton otherwise I would have already done it. You see, my magic isn’t compatible with the Nemeton, I couldn’t even if I wish connect with one. Stiles, however, is a spark, it’s the right kind of magic, and he’s already connected to it, the Nemeton will realize what’s happening and probably help guide us in the right direction.” 

“But how will it actually happen?” Stiles asked, sitting forward demanding all the information he could get. 

“I don’t know,” Harry confessed, “That is the problem, I have no idea what will happen. Whether we will appear in time in these bodies or if our consciousness will merge with our younger selves.” 

Stiles breathing hitched, he was so confident so sure they could do this. 

“And if your consciousness just roams around without a body for the rest of your lives?” Chris imputed, “Everyone always says meddling with time is dangerous,” 

“There’s a reason for that,” Harry said dryly, “Do you know what happens if you encounter yourself?” he added coolly. 

Chris blinked, “No?” it was a question. 

“You drive yourself mad,” Harry informed him seriously, “Then again those are just hours in time, not actual decades it might be a completely different scenario although I don’t quite relish finding out.” 

“They tried to warn themselves that something bad was going to happen only to end up mad?” Peter asked, gaze shrewd and penetrating. 

“Yes, which ironically changes the timeline anyway,” Harry informed them, “We lost quite a few people to that, when this begun. There was a mad dash to prevent the supernatural being exposed, but no matter what we did…we were unable to prevent it.” and a few encountered their other selves and unfortunately, lost themselves. 

Stiles glanced away, guilt and shame souring his scent, Derek’s face became a stony mask and Isaac who hadn’t even been there shrunk into himself, Liam swallowed thickly unable to meet Harry’s eyes. Chris revealed nothing, and Peter just rolled his eyes when they practically gave everything away. He wasn’t surprised to see Harry sit up further and take note of their expressions suspicion written across his features. 

“Is there something you wish to tell me?” Harry said, staring the group, if he had seen himself, he would have realized that this scenario was almost the same as when Dumbledore asked him all those years ago. Although, Harry didn’t have the compassion and disappointment Dumbledore had rehearsed so well to perfection. “You didn’t just grow up in Beacon Hills, you were there for all of it.” Harry so easily deduced, tense and alert. 

Peter was torn between caution and smug satisfaction that he had such a smart mate, to have been lumped with someone inane, intelligent and pathetic would have been an embarrassment. He was a Hale, one of the last few remaining Hale blood, it would have been intolerable. “We were,” Peter confessed, he wasn’t going to try and begin lying to Harry, there was just no point. 

The others glanced at Peter with wide eyes, wondering why he was telling him that, terrified that they’d be given the boot just as they begun to accept a better life however short lived it might be. 

Harry pinched the bridge of his nose, “Please tell me he wasn’t your Alpha,” he groaned, sitting back looking physically pained. 

“He wasn’t my alpha,” Peter growled lowly, he’d never been in the McCall pack, had no desire to be even if they’d given him the chance. Which they had not due to his past actions, the only thing he did regret about it all was forcing his nephew to kill him and biting McCall. 

A knock on the door pulled a halt to whatever Harry was going to say, flicking his hand in the generation direction of the door. Marcus stepped through, eyeing them all cautiously, having felt the incredulousness, disbelief and shock through the bond he shared with Harry. “Is everything alright in here?” if there hadn’t been an answer, he would have burst his way in. 

“I’m fine, honestly,” Harry sighed, rubbing his head feeling a massive migraine coming on. Merlin, help him, he hadn’t expected this at all. “Which one of you bit him?” staring at the three Hales in particular, knowing from Marcus that they were born Werewolves and that Cora was a Hale, Derek’s sister and Peter’s niece. He knew nothing further despite the fact Marcus had wanted to reveal more. Their history wasn’t his business, and he knew how it felt for others to know more of your own history than you were comfortable with. 

“You’re in his pack?” Peter asked, gazing between the Alpha and Harry, feeling rather off kilter by that information. This was his mate, and his wolf was displeased by the bonds he shared with another, especially another Alpha when that was all Peter ever wanted to be. He barely refrained from a low grumbling sound leaving his clenched teeth. 

“No, we’re connected to him,” Marcus revealed, closing the door and stepping forward towards Harry, “Every alpha here is connected to Harry, not quite pack but you can liken it to a pack-adjacent bond but stronger.” Well aware of the fact Harry was Peter Hale’s mate and what he knew about the werewolf, he didn’t feel all that comfortable leaving Harry on his own with the Hale pack, hence why he’d come as soon as he felt the emotions in the bond flare. Everything that had come out of Beacon Hills was distorted so when Harry asked, there was nothing he could state and say with one hundred percent certainty. He honestly hadn’t thought of telling him about the Hale fire and the aftershock it created afterwards, until they were there, but Harry didn’t want to hear it. 

Hearing that he wasn’t actually a part of any pack eased Peter’s protective and possessive instincts. Harry shouldn’t be in any pack other than his own. If they’d met before the revelation of the supernatural world and he’d been in a pack, he would have left his own for his, depending on a few things. Primarily the fact he was a Hale would ensure it was in his favour, the Hale bloodline was well known, respected and one of the few ancient and noble lines, they’d been in Beacon Hills before its inception. There was only maybe two others that can say they’re equal to the Hales’ but who knows what happened to them. 

“Which one of you bit him?” Harry repeated his question, tone grim. 

Marcus gave Harry a curious look before he sat, wondering what was going on to elicit that sort of emotion from Harry. He wasn’t going to leave when there was something going on, and judging by the scents in the room, things could end up taking a nasty turn. 

The Hale pack just looked at each other intently, almost as if they were conversing with the ‘eyebrows of boom’ as Stiles liked to call them. 

“It’s a little more complicated than that,” Peter confessed, if he had to leave he would, but he’d make damn sure the others would remain. He would not let them go back out there, he didn’t care what he had to do. 

A knowing look came across Marcus’ face, as if he had a good idea what had gone down from all the bits and pieces he’d picked up over the years. He’d tried to tell Harry, but he hadn’t wanted to know, he wasn’t sure why either, but he had his suspicions on that front. 

“It really is,” Stiles blurted out, nodding his head, their whole lives had been complicated. 

“Do you remember our conversation last night? About the Nemeton being a death drawer? Well, it’s been that way since Stiles was sixteen-years-old. I believe it happened the night Stiles and two others sacrificed themselves to find their parents and ultimately put a stop to a Darachs plan.” Peter informed him, knowing without a doubt this would make Harry understand just how bad it had been. 

Chris flinched, he hadn’t been aware of what Allison had done, not for a long time. 

Harry’s eyebrows rose, “Three-fold sacrifice,” shaking his head, “Damn, as a magical practitioner you technically have all the points required to participate in the spell.” He didn’t like using his MOD powers, or revealing them, he could see Peter without needing it, but if he opened them up, he knew without a doubt, he would see that Stiles and Derek had experienced death as well. The others had commented that he smelt like ‘Death’ or ‘Vampire’ when he used those powers specifically. It put them on edge. 

“Technically Derek and Peter have died too,” Stiles pointed out, shivering at the feeling washing over him. “Peter came back using a Banshee but Derek evolved after sacrificing himself to take down Berserkers,” that had been the turning point for both of them. 

Marcus made a muted sound of disbelief, that information had definitely not reached his ears. Oh, he definitely wasn’t going anywhere, he was curious himself now. 

“I’m sure by now you’ve been told of the fire,” Peter said sharply, swallowing thickly, he’d never actually spoken about it. Not in any other terms other than getting revenge for his fallen family and it was the lowest time in his life. 

“No, I don’t,” Harry said firmly, a dark look appearing on his face, “I know what it’s like to have everyone knowing about your own history before you do. Or having an opportunity to tell anyone.” He’d always resent the Dursley’s to hell and back for that, walking into the wizarding world completely unprepared and with only a half-giant to tell him, who was too afraid to say a damn name. 

Derek inhaled sharply, “The fire was my fault,” he stated, only to have Peter, Stiles and Cora vehemently protesting his declaration. Telling him he wasn’t to blame, he hadn’t thrown the chemical mixture cocktail at the house and set it ablaze. 

“I know this might sound…unfeeling but when did this fire take place?” Harry asked, “Dates and times are extremely important.” His tone sombre and a sense of understanding wafted from Harry in droves. 

“January 25th 2005, seven o’clock at night, we were celebrating the Wolf Moon, the entire pack was gathered except for two,” Peter said, his voice slightly off and filled with raw grief as if it had just happened, predictably Derek hunched in on himself. “Eleven of us, Derek had begun dating someone outside of the pack, months prior, we could smell her circling the house, like an idiot we decided to wait for her to knock.” Answering doors before they were knocked wasn’t very human after all. 

Harry arched a brow, dawning realization beginning to creep in, oh, yes, he had an extremely intelligent mate. 

“We were unaware she was drawing Mountain ash around the house, and tunnels, preventing any of us escaping leaving us essentially human and trapped.” Peter rasped out, Marcus, Peter noticed, looked like he wanted claw his ears off, or to leave, he didn’t want to hear what was about to be revealed. “Then Molotov cocktails were thrown through the windows, the chemical mixture had wolfsbane in it, making it an aerosol, we immediately ran for the basement, the secret tunnels that had been there for centuries…only to find our ways cut off.” 

Harry remained silent, letting Peter talk, he knew this was the first time he’d discussed it, knew it was the first time Derek was hearing it judging by the reactions. Stiles was just trying to keep Derek as comforted as humanly possible. That couldn’t be healthy, like at all, the fire had happened such a long time ago, why wouldn’t they discuss it in some capacity? 

“A lot of my memories of the fire is…murky, I was unaware that I succeeded in getting Cora out of the house,” Peter said, shaking his head, he still didn’t remember to this day. “We were all choking on the smoke imbued with wolfsbane, burning our lungs, we healed only to go through the progress all over again. Our human pack members had a relatively peaceful death…” which was true enough, they’d simply looked like they’d fallen asleep. “The culprits stayed surrounding the house, the main one taunting us, revealing just how she’d managed to do this to us.” 

Derek let out a whine of pure unadulterated agony, that set Marcus’ teeth on edge to make it better for the Beta. Stiles instead practically wrapped himself around Derek, with Isaac plastering himself to his side, Liam, uncomfortably patted at his shoulder awkwardly. 

Chris just remained stony faced, looking for all the world that he just wanted to crawl into a hole and die. 

Peter grimaced, he’d wrongly assumed that Derek would have put the pieces together, after all he was intelligent but intelligent enough to put the pieces together from someone he’d never met? Although, Laura had almost succeeded in figuring it out without knowing anything, but that was sheer dumb luck that he still did not understand to this day.

“Eleven people had been reported to have died in the fire, three of them human and Derek and Cora’s six month old cousin who hadn’t in one way or another had it confirmed as to whether they were a Were or not.” Peter stated, his voice becoming detached and void of any emotion. “I was assumed the sole survivor of the fire that claimed the rest of my pack. The firefighters pulled me out of the wreckage, transferred me to hospital, I had sustained 3rd- degree burns over 75 percent of my body.” 

Marcus had his eyes closed, a sick look of revulsion and horror plastered across his face. He wasn’t sure how the remaining members had survived such a horrific incident, he’d lost Beta’s in the past, and the feeling…was indescribable, like losing a piece of himself in the process. Although, if what he had heard was true…they hadn’t come out unscathed at all. 

It was clear that Peter was unable to continue, and that Derek was in no state to speak. Not surprisingly, it was Stiles who begun then to explain what happened next. “Derek and Laura were at school, a basketball game that night, and were the only members of the Hale pack that sustained no physical injuries from the fire.” Stiles told him, glancing at Peter with a saddened look on his face. “Laura was the second-in-command, she inherited Talia’s alpha powers…” 

Harry straightened up, a frown working onto his features, “Are you telling me your mother had a school child next in line to inherit the Alpha powers when she had at least a sibling? Is that normal assuming you were her brother and not brother-in-law?” he asked Marcus bewildered, it made absolutely no sense. She had to have been what? Maybe eighteen-years-old? 

“Every pack is different,” Marcus revealed, “But I have never heard of someone so young becoming the Second-In-Command, it should not have happened until Laura Hale was at least twenty-one, graduated high school and gone to college…getting the Alpha powers especially during such tragedy…I doubt she knew anything about being an Alpha…at that age.” 

“Laura did the best she could,” Derek snarled out, as always defending his sister to the extreme. 

“Which indicates that even you found her lacking…” Harry said seriously, “I’m not going to like where this goes am I?” he said mostly to himself. 

Stiles sighed softly, resigned to carrying on where none of the other Hales could, “Laura…Laura took Derek and they fled immediately to New York. It was during that time, when she severed the pack bonds with Peter that Peter went into a coma unable to cope with the additional strain of the remaining packbonds he had breaking leaving him as an Omega. The Hales remained in New York for six years, they had no contact at all with Peter in the following years.” 

Harry stood up, a sick look adorning his face, this had absolutely nothing to do with the fact Peter was his mate. “The best she could?” he muttered, pacing back and forth, “Merlin’s bloody balls! Merlin, what the hell did you do to her to have her leaving you behind like you meant nothing? Try to drown her?” 

Peter snarled at the implication that he would have ever purposefully hurt his pack back then, he wouldn’t have. He might have been tad on the sarcastic and manipulative side, but he would never, ever have harmed a head on any of his families head, he’d loved them all fiercely, enough to get revenge where Laura and Derek had not. 

“Unbeknownst to anyone at that point, there was one other survivor of the Hale House fire, obviously, Cora. She was eleven-years-old at the time. She believed everyone, including Peter, Derek and Laura had died, Cora did as she had been trained to do in such a situation, and fled in order to hide and heal. She eventually ended up in South America and joined a pack there where she stayed until rumours of a Hale Alpha reached her…she briefly re-joined that pack again after a bit.” Stiles told him. 

“So what you’re telling me is when Laura cut off Peter she cut off Cora as well?” Harry said, sickness crawling up his throat. She left her eleven-year-old kid sister to fend for herself and took Derek and fucked off? “Could the decimation of the bonds have made her unaware?” 

“No,” Marcus stated immediately, “Hunters attacked the Gregory pack, the twenty-two year old Second-In-Command Alan suddenly found himself an Alpha after the attack. He gathered up what was left of them, including one that was twenty miles away. He took the two he found quickly and completed a cross-country trek until he got to her, brought them all back after he found a new Emissary and returned home. If anyone had become aware of Laura Hale’s actions…she would have been an anathema in the supernatural world. It makes sense why she fled to New York, it doesn’t belong to any particular wolf, the territory is too large.” 

“New York belongs to MACUSA,” Harry corrected him. 

Stiles was practically on top of Derek, stopping him from frothing in rage or trying to attack anyone in his defence of Laura. Laura had been all Derek had for six long years, he loved her regardless of her failures, even if he felt guilty for what they had done. However, Marcus’ words seemed to have Derek bowled over stunned. He probably hadn’t seen her actions for the way it was, but the reality was, even Stiles thought what she did was wrong, he’d never said as much to Derek. Family was everything to Stiles, he hadn’t even left his father in the end, just thinking about him had his eyes stinging with the remembered agony. 

“For the next six years, I was cognizant but locked inside my body while I slowly healed, cell by cell, unable to voice my pain, get any relief whatsoever, the Mundane drugs burning out within minutes of being administered. All the questions I had circling my mind relentlessly, where were Derek and Laura? They hadn’t been in the fire…had the hunters taken them out too? I almost wish it had been that way, at least then I wouldn’t have had to live with the knowledge that my remaining pack members had left me to rot where any hunter could just walk into the room and finish me off and I wouldn’t be able to do a damn thing to stop it. The very least she could have mercy killed me.” 

“Which hunter faction dared to take out a peaceful pack?” Marcus growled low in his throat. 

“Kate Argent along with near a dozen conspirators, but she wasn’t the mastermind ultimately behind it,” Peter replied, eyes flashing blue as he thought on her. Why were his only successful bites – or claws as it were – people he wouldn’t want to see turned even if it saved his life? “Her father, Gerard Argent raised her to think of us lower than dogs, except of course, when she was sleeping with them, all for the greater good I’m sure,” he drawled out with bite and sarcasm that was mostly aimed at Chris. 

An sudden explosion of magic, exuding from Harry, caused every werewolf to shiver in fear at the feel of the powers and death that came from Harry. “You’ve brought a hunter into my sanctuary?” Harry’s green eyes were like ice, furious and filled with rage. Staring them all down, breathing heavily, as he clearly tried to reign himself in. “An Argent!” just a single look and he was able to deduce something that most others would overlook. 

Chris swallowed thickly, but remained seated and feigned impassivity. He might have fooled a casual observer, but in a room full of supernatural’s? Everyone could smell how terrified he was, and would have, if the situation was different, it would have made the others feel a little more respect for his composure. 

Marcus had his claws out ready to render and tear into Chris at the slightest provocation. He couldn’t believe the Hales would associate with this scum, they were betraying their own kind? 

“He’s not a hunter anymore! He retired before all this started! He’s one of the good ones! I swear!” Isaac unsurprisingly was the quickest to defend Chris, using his body as a shield for the human. “He hasn’t hurt any of us,” and his heartbeat blipped. 

“Now that was a lie,” Marcus growled, standing up, red eyes flashing furiously. 

Peter was watching the scene tense and alert, he liked to make trouble but this…he hadn’t intended on this. Unfortunately, he knew, that it would have had to be revealed today, if anyone found out later…it would have made the betrayal and swift retribution so much worse. There was no guarantee that someone in this Sanctuary wouldn’t recognize Chris for who he was. 

“Oh he’s hurt all of us at one point,” Peter drawled, “Or watched,” he added thoughtfully, watching Chris tense farther, but no scent of betrayal just resigned understanding. “Desecrating remains,” Chris closed his eyes resignedly, slightly surprised by the words, he hadn’t been aware they knew that much. 

Derek made a wounded noise as if just putting it together for the first time. That Chris and his ilk had cut Laura in half with a broadsword in order to prevent her from coming back. It begs the question, which one of them had truly killed her? Peter or the hunters? It seemed he was tearing every wound that had somewhat healed on Derek today, making them raw and aching. Why should he be the one to suffer through it alone? Nobody had been surprised when he didn’t take to Chris Argent right away, it had taken a whole lot before he’d considered the guy ‘pack-adjacent’ in his mind. The others might think of him as pack but no, Peter only considered his niece and nephew as well as Stiles as real pack. Those are the only people he was killing to die for. 

“However, Isaac is quite correct, despite retiring he begun to help us, mostly because his daughter was part of a pack.” Peter informed Harry seriously, knowing to use full uncensored truth, he wasn’t sure why, but it was a gut feeling, instinct just like when he knew he had to take out Scott McCall. “He also tried to talk to McCall and put a stop to what was happening. He knew as well as us what would happen if the supernatural was revealed. Unfortunately, he had never been one to be reasoned with.” As always giving praise in his normal fashion, insulting them and complimenting them in the same sentence. Or rather his version of a compliment. In his opinion Chris had always been too trigger happy. 

Harry narrowed his eyes, clearly still displeased, but he had calmed and reigned in his magic fully, willing to listen to them at least. Even as they speak, Peter noted that information was writing itself across the wall, the date and time and HALE MANOR FIRE emblazoned across it. “You better give me one good reason as to why I should allow a hunter sanctuary,” he sneered, his disgust obvious to all, you didn’t need to be a werewolf to see it. 

“If one of us leaves, we all leave,” Stiles blurted out without thinking. 

“Truer words haven’t been spoken,” Harry stated sharply, staring at Stiles, “I do not need you that much Mr. Stilinski, that I would allow anyone to bring danger to my people.” he’d find an alternative way to go about it first before he’d dare to let anyone try and manipulate him again. 

Peter understood that, truly, it was the sort of pack thinking mentality, for a wizard it was surprising that he had it. Then again, Stiles did too, but he’d been around werewolves since he was sixteen, it was a learned behaviour, although on his own, Scott had never been comfortable in his skin. Stiles was clearly taken aback that his attempts at manipulation hadn’t worked. It had been a good bet, something Peter would have used too, but clearly Harry wasn’t putting all his eggs into one basket. 

“If they find out…they’ll kill him,” Marcus commented, it was just the truth. 

“It’s a chance I’m willing to take, don’t throw the pack out…not for me,” Chris said, his tone not even the slightest bit grudging, he understood he hated what had become of the world, and those that call themselves ‘hunters’ there was a time where he wouldn’t have. This…this was his penance, he deserved anything that might come his way. 

Harry gritted his teeth, indecision warring within him. 

The Hale pack was tense, waiting for the inevitable. Being told to leave, that they weren’t welcome, things never worked for them long term, why would that change now? Derek was inconsolable, what if his mate ended up unconscious again and inevitably fell into a coma without those potions Harry gave him? They didn’t know how long they would work and keep him wrong. 

“He’s not a danger to anyone,” Peter informed Harry quietly, “He has nothing that could endanger anyone, and I’ll kill him myself if he attempts anything here.” which was the truth, if this time-travel didn’t work out, they only had less than a year left to live, and he planned to live it, not survive out there again. Not without his mate. Only his luck would see his mate coming into his life at the end of the world. Go figure. 

“You’ll take full responsibility for anything that happens then?” Harry asked curtly, still furious over the deception. “And receive the same penalty.” Which was death. 

Peter inhaled sharply, not expecting that from his mate, but respecting it nonetheless. He’d kill Harry to save Stiles at this point in time, they weren’t bonded yet. So, it made sense that Harry would kill him to save those in sanctuary. The draw was still there though, the desire to be near him, Harry was the same no doubt. If they bonded, they would kill and die for each other, that was what I meant to be mates. “Agreed,” to the surprise of the pack, they hadn’t expected that from Peter. No doubt Chris was going to get a few threats whenever they were alone after that. 

“On your head be it,” Harry stated, not trusting the hunter the slightest, he would have him watched every minute of the day, one of the House-elves would be happy to do it. He couldn’t believe he was allowing a hunter to remain in sanctuary, retired or not. How many supernaturals has he killed? He didn’t deserve the sanctuary but he didn’t actually want to throw the rest of them out to deal with the hunters out there. He was compromised, due to Peter, and the sympathy he had for the group from what he’d heard so far. Almost as if his mind was being read – which was impossible after all – the next question had him questioning if that was actually true. 

“Do you want to hear the rest?” Stiles asked, glancing briefly at the wall, he could see information had been added too, Peter wasn’t the only observant one of the group. Stiles, for most part, couldn’t remain still, always looking around observing everything. Even from his place on Derek’s lap, who had a tight grip on him, keeping him close. He wasn’t sure whether he believed they could time-travel or if it was fools hope, but Stiles was optimistic, he’d do anything, anything to help his pack survive, to help his mate survive. 

Harry slumped on the chair, rubbing his head looking even more exhausted. It was obvious he hadn’t had any sleep whatsoever and the food he’d eaten hadn’t helped give him much energy at all to get through the day. 

“Maybe you should postpone it and get some sleep?” Marcus suggested, worried about him, he usually knew his own limit. 

“I’ll do it after, I’ll be contacting Hermione tonight,” which would be in the early hours for her. “Go ahead,” he gestured for them to continue, a blank mask on his face, none of his earlier friendliness anywhere to be seen. It was clear without being able to detect it that he was still fuming over Chris Argent’s presence here. There was a time where Peter would have agreed with Harry without fail. How times had changed. The trust he gave Chris Argent had been well earned though. 

Stiles shifted, feeling a little guilty, but nonetheless he begun, “On January 16th at around seven o’clock, when I was sixteen, six years later almost to the day, four days actually. I heard my dad on the phone, he was the sheriff,” Stiles choked back on his emotions, unable to conceal them, his fathers death still weighed heavily upon him. Hated that they hadn’t been able to save him, the Hales would have bitten him in a second if they’d had the ability. Keeping dates and times knowing they were important to what Harry wished to accomplish. Harry’s blank mask faded a little, sympathy bleeding through, no pity though thank goodness otherwise Stiles would have been angry over it. 

Peter noted that it was a sympathy people feel over losing loved ones when they themselves hadn’t. Something about that felt wrong to Peter though, someone like Harry Potter had suffered loss, even if his sympathy was generic. 

The feeling of Derek rubbing his back, a comforting purr coming from deep within his chest, calmed him considerably. It shouldn’t be that way, what he was doing to say next sounded so, so horrible. “They’d found half a body in the preserve, when he left I ran to get Scott,” scoffing in derision, “I wanted to see it for myself and invited my best friend to come with me.” He’d certainly got his wish…how many damn dead bodies had he seen in his life now? Too damn many by far. 

There was no distain or disgust in Harry’s face, if anything there was a faint amused lilt to his lips. He had been a teenager once, admittedly his…adventures were more life threatening and less out of boredom. 

“We got there, looked around, but then my dad and the department arrived with the dogs, Scott and I split up, I was found, kept Scott out of it and I drove home texting Scott to make sure he was alright. He complained about me leaving him behind and the next day I found out he had been bitten by something while in the woods, swearing he had heard a wolf howl.” 

“Scott…he changed basically overnight, he suddenly had the ability to do things that weren’t possible, especially with someone with asthma. He could smell things no human could, and his abilities at Lacrosse…he was a benchwarmer he wanted to play but he couldn’t his asthma held him back…but suddenly he was amazing. I tried to ask him why he wasn’t more curious about how he could do the things he could. Told him albeit only slightly jokingly that he was a werewolf.” 

Harry’s eyebrows rose, “I wonder…did you have a habit of looking for dead bodies?” 

Stiles bristled at the insinuation, “No,” 

“You’d had no desire in the past before?” Harry asked, a thoughtful look on his face. 

Stiles realized Harry was on to something, “Well, no, but nothing ever happened in…nothing that impacted me had ever happened in Beacon Hills.” Correcting himself. 

Harry nodded, “I wouldn’t be surprised if the Nemeton drew you to it,” he was a spark, the closest thing that could help the Nemeton and the supernatural. “Another Hale had just been killed, whether she’d been in the territory or not…the balance was seriously out of whack.” 

“It created the desire for me to go look for a dead body?” Stiles asked incredulously, his eyes widening when he realized something, “I came across it that night…I…I actually came across it.” 

Harry wasn’t surprised by that sudden realization. “I believe if you had gone alone, you would have actually connected with the Nemeton that night. Ignited your spark, unfortunately, it seems as if it wasn’t meant to be.” 

“I dread to think what would have happened if Stiles had connected to the Nemeton and fully came into his spark when I was feral,” Peter said, shuddering at the thought. 

“I doubt you would have been able to touch him,” Harry admitted, “The Nemeton wouldn’t have allowed it, with the unlimited potential of a spark back then…he would have been…untouchable,” without the end of the world the poison not being so bad…he genuinely believed that. 

“Perhaps,” Peter said doubtfully, well aware of what had been inside the tree, and whether Stiles would have ended up possessed a whole lot sooner. Merlin, that didn’t bear thinking about, they would have killed Stiles without pause, without even caring. Even Chris grimaced as if he was on the same wavelength as Peter, which was probably true. 

“I binge read everything I could on werewolves, tried to do everything I could in order to help my best friend. Scott was invited to a party with a new girl that had just joined Beacon Hills High School, I tried to tell him it was a bad idea. That it was the full moon and he just accused me of being jealous of him, of having a girlfriend and having a part in Lacrosse. Conveniently forgetting I only joined to keep him company because he wanted to play.” Stiles scoffed, shaking his head, “He never lost the belief that I was jealous of him, his sudden abilities, his popularity and girlfriend…it doesn’t matter how many times I told him I wasn’t and he was a werewolf he should have known my heartbeat didn’t stutter.” Sadness overwhelming Stiles, he still missed who his best friend used to be, even if the thought of Scott usually turned him…near feral and murderous these days. He tried not to think on the early years of their friendship when he thought Scott would. 

“Some friendships aren’t meant to stand the test of time,” Harry explained sadly, “Sometimes the person you thought you knew wasn’t who you thought it was.” 

“Laura’s body meanwhile had been taken…” 

“Let me guess, Mountain lion?” Harry drawled out with a derisive sneer. “Or Coyote,” the humans were ignorant of the supernatural world, and he didn’t know how many cases they came over and blamed on animals. To him they were idiots, but what else could they think really? 

“Laura’s body showed signs of being cut in half, it’s a favoured method of hunters,” Stiles murmured quietly. “Um, she wasn’t the only death, other people begun to be killed, the only pattern in a few were they were suspected of Arson…” 

“And our magnificent boy here, managed to join the dots whereas my own Nephew could not.” Peter drawled in vindictive amusement. “A boy who had until quite recently been in the dark of the supernatural world in which he was now part of. Back then Stiles would have flushed bright red to the tip of his ears at the endearment and praise. Not anymore unfortunately, he wasn’t a young boy, but a man now. 

“Isn’t hard when you know what you’re looking for,” Stiles said shaking his head. 

“But you didn’t,” Harry pointed out, a sixteen-year-old new to the supernatural sussing out what a born wolf could not? “You didn’t want to know,” Harry realized, he will have had his own suspicions but buried them, refusing to contemplate the idea that a family member had killed another. 

“It’s not like that, I sort of accused Derek of it, he’d buried the other half of the body, at the time I had no idea it was his sister. Me and Scott actually got him in trouble twice, although Scott was the primary instigator for the second time. Accusing him of killing the janitor at the school. We’d all been lured there, by Peter, he was feral at the time.” 

Harry’s eyebrows rose, confusion hinting at his scent, “The school Janitor?” 

“Wrong place wrong time,” Peter answered truthfully. 

“Why the luring?” Harry pressed, trying to understand what the hell he was missing. 

Peter pressed his lips into a thin line, “Scott was refusing me as his alpha, I was extremely annoyed by that, a newly bitten Beta shouldn’t be able to withstand the call of its Alpha. I was able to deduce he had a pack of his own, and I wanted him to kill them and join me in my crusade to take down those who had killed my family. It was sound logic in my mind at the time.” He was grateful he had been stopped. 

“Man, that’s not been done in centuries,” Marcus grimaced, “It’s how they did it in the old ways,” he explained to Harry. 

“I failed regardless, he was…uncommonly strong, and Stiles I believe managed to get him out of it, either that or it was his anchor, who happened to be the daughter of hunters, Allison Argent.” Peter drawled, as if they weren’t talking about a difficult time of his life. 

Chris flinched at the mere mention of his daughter, the pain and grief clouding him even all these years later. 

Stiles nodded, agreeing, but whether it was at him or Allison helping Scott overcome the desire to render and tear the others. 

Harry just hummed, getting a clearer picture, even if they had enough holes to drill swiss cheese through. 

“Derek…Derek briefly joined Peter, and they made another attempt at getting Scott on side, Peter put the memories of the fire into his mind. In an attempt to gain sympathy or something I’m not exactly sure,” Stiles sighed, “Not that it worked, if anything he just pulled away more. When it came to the Argents…Scott had buried his head so far up his ass…refusing to believe they were as monstrous as they seemed.” 

Chris winced but conceded it was the truth. 

“Briefly?” Harry echoed, eyeing the werewolf with a look that nobody could decipher at all. 

“Uh, not that we knew that at the time, I proceeded to try to help Scott, I was sick of being attacked every time he got worked up.” Stiles sighed, rubbing his hair in exasperation and pain, he hated remembering those days. 

“You were lucky you weren’t killed, he was an Omega werewolf,” Peter stated curtly, “But I must admit, the way you succeeded in training McCall was rather…ingenious.” 

Chris nodded, whole-heartedly agreeing with Peter. “There was a time where we actually thought Stiles was the Beta.” He imputed. 

Stiles barely blinked, he’d been aware… Harry realized, “You attacked a human?” magic or not, he was human at that point, evidently his spark hadn’t awoken. 

“Threatened, that particular Argent didn’t attack me.” Stiles growled, still smarting over the fact that Chris had revealed what happened to him in that basement years and years later. The Hales had been enraged, they’d wanted to resurrect Gerard Argent and kill him all over again. He’d kept it a secret, getting his ass handed to him by an old man wasn’t exactly a thing he wanted revealed about him. “I did give him a few home truths about his family though, six years of burying his head in the sand, I told him what his sister Kate Argent had done to the Hales.” 

“You knew what your family had done? Yet you had the gall apparently to return to Beacon Hills very conveniently when Laura returned and cut her body in half after she was attacked? You left her there, that isn’t Hunters ways, you wanted her found…fuck, you were luring Derek back there, what did you intend to do? Murder the last of the Hales? Going to wander into Beacon Hills hospital and kill off Peter who to everyone was still in a coma?” Harry said, shifting his chair further back as if he was afraid to be infected by Chris mere presence. “So much for the Argent code, which of the eleven people in that fire personally offended you? What did Laura do to offend you? Or Derek for that matter? Oh, wait, being born werewolves would have done that well enough. You were covering up, trying to prevent anyone finding out what the Argent family had done weren’t you? The dead can’t talk after all.” 

“Which begs the question, who really killed her? Peter or Chris,” Harry said smoothly, green eyes gleaming, “I’ve seen Alpha werewolves taken down by Beta’s and losing their powers but returning relatively unscathed a few hours later with their bodies still healing.” Admittedly feral Alphas but that was beside the point. 

“No,” Chris argued immediately, ramrod straight, “It wasn’t like that,” he gritted his teeth. 

“You can’t lie to me anymore than you can lie to yourself,” Harry said, “It’s partially true, you might not have known what your sister did, but you did return to Beacon Hills with the intention of finishing of the Hale pack. Do you know what happens when you kill stable packs? Do you? That day your sister might have only killed eleven people but she’s responsible for hundreds of deaths.”

“What are you talking about?” he snarled, sounding more wolf than human at that point, he didn’t like his character being attacked at all. 

“During the six years that the Hales were dead…two hundred and fifteen people that’s known died without a werewolf pack to protect its borders. In Beacon county and its surrounding areas that were no doubt nightly patrolled by the adults of the Hale pack. The beacon might not have been fully active but it was enough to draw supernatural in, slowly.” Harry stated, finally understanding why the death rate had gone up, and it had nothing to do with the Nemeton. “Admittedly a third of them were merely ‘Missing’ as it were, but we all know that it means dead. Do you know how the numbers stood before your sister attacked them? five, in the past decade, five,” 

Chris, Peter and Derek inhaled sharply, the number surprising them all. 

Stiles however, didn’t seem all that surprised, he was the son of a sheriff, he knew how busy his father had been. With all the missing people and murders that happened, even if they weren’t his cases. His father had been drowning in cases and bottles. 

“If she repeated her MO…ten times…can you imagine the effect it’s had?” Harry asked seriously. “I also know you have the tendency to kill humans when the mood strikes especially if it gets you an in where you want. All hunters consider it a necessary sacrifice, all for the greater good.” He fucking hated hunters all supernatural folk did, he just did not understand how these people could travel with one, especially from what he’s hearing.

“Why aren’t you surprised, Stiles?” Peter asked, zeroing in on their Emissary’s unflappable features. 

“Sherriff’s son, Zombiewolf,” Stiles said with fondness. “Too often after drinking too much I’d look through his cases and help him.” his ability to see things others overlooked a great help in both Mundane and supernatural cases over the years. He had stopped drinking so much though, and had been healthy, very healthy before Scott fucked up and got him killed. “Unfortunately, far too many were dead ends, too many cold cases.” Which had increased his father’s drinking for a while. 

Harry snorted at the term of endearment genuinely amused. 

“I’m not sure what else you want to know?” Stiles murmured, “Peter killed those who had started the Hale house fire, culminating in the death of Kate Argent, or presumed death anyway. He was planning on killing the rest of the Argents.” 

“Probably would have been for the best,” Harry retorted with a grimace, the only good hunter was a dead one. 

Chris struggled to remain impassive at that dig, his daughter had not deserved to die, they weren’t responsible for Kate and his fathers actions. Unfortunately, with the world the way it was, how can anyone else have a good thing to say about hunters? Even he detested the sight of them. 

“I’m going to assume that’s when you were killed?” Harry deduced, glancing Peter’s way. 

Peter grimaced but nodded, “I was feral, there was no other alternative.” Even he acknowledged that. “Fortunately, I had tied my essence to a Banshee, who would have become aware of the supernatural on her eighteenth birthday.” He’d only moved it along. 

“A banshee huh?” Harry mused thoughtfully, slotting the information away.

“Scott was furious with Derek for taking away his chance of being human again,” Stiles said, sarcasm on full volume. 

Harry stared blankly, before his lips twitched and he burst out laughing, a full, genuine, belly bursting, laughter. “You told him…” he wheezed through his merriment, “That if he killed the Alpha he’d be human again?” gales of laughter rained down on the otherwise tense room. 

Redness crept up Derek’s face, as he visibly showed his embarrassment. 

“Merlin, man, you realize you could have ended up with a damn Alpha on your hands that was an Omega?” his amusement creeping off, “A Kid that had been bitten only how long ago?” 

“A few months,” Stiles admitted, Scott wouldn’t have been able to do it though. 

“It’s why I did what needed to be done,” Derek stated, “I didn’t want to be an Alpha, wasn’t supposed to, but I couldn’t let Scott take it, or become an Alpha when he was struggling with control. I also didn’t want Peter to suffer.” Despite what he done, Derek had loved him, or loved who he remembered his uncle to be. The man he had come to love once he began trusting him after the end of the world. 

“He was shot with wolfsbane bullets?” nasty way to die, at least he hadn’t suffered too much, then again, being on the other side for a month isn’t a piece of cake either. He was only there for a few minutes and it felt like a whole lot longer. 

That had the group shifting, there may well have been ominous music playing in the background as Harry’s eyes narrowed in on them yet again. 

“Scott was my best friend,” Stiles said defensively, “I didn’t begrudge Peter getting revenge, even at sixteen…I would have done the same thing although a lot more subtle. If he hadn’t threatened Scott then I wouldn’t have gotten involved, at least not much.” His tone grim and serious, gold eyes gleaming mercilessly. Showing that he wasn’t just talking the talk, but he’d walked the walk and done a lot of things over the years to protect what was his. 

“Uh-huh,” was the only sound Harry made as he waited. 

Marcus’ eyes gleamed with approval, as the Emissary it was Stiles job and Marcus approved. 

“Jackson and I threw Molotov cocktails at Peter,” Stiles stated. 

“Damn,” Marcus muttered, “Vicious little thing, setting a burn victim on fire, I’m almost impressed, you have the heart of a wolf.” defending what was his to the extreme. “Almost sociopathic though.”

Harry smirked wryly, in complete agreement, although if Marcus knew what he’d done his youth…well it made Harry wonder what he would think. “And could you now, if you went back in time kill Scott? Or allow someone to do it? Because you understand that this is the price don’t you? Human or Were’ he doesn’t get to live. He will be killed.” Along with a whole slew of other people, but he wasn’t about to let them know, especially considering they’d aligned themselves with a hunter. At least until he understood why they had done so. He had a feeling his mate didn’t trust easily or at all, so perhaps he had proven himself invaluable to the group. Which might just save his life. 

By the end of the day, Harry’s kill list, was going to be significantly longer. 

Harry just couldn’t see why they trusted a hunter. He loathed hunters. Only good hunter is a dead one. 

\-----------0

And here's is the next chapter UGH I'm so regretting the world building idea I only know information up until the Alpha pack the rest is disjoined the info I know from Stiles being possessed SO I think the end of the next chapter will be after that information has been shared! so the next chapter it can be skipped over and I can give what snippets I know unless you all think it can be added mid chapter? I think it's too big a jump without using a new chapter! and yes, Harry hates hunters, all of the supernaturals do I mean they've destroyed the world so...will Harry end up getting on with Chris? Do you want to see it or will there always be tension between the two? a trust yes, but tension always? At least until they go back....now I just need to decide who goes back whether it's just Stiles and Harry or whether their mates go back with them perhaps unintentionally or hell, even the others? I don't want too many people going it makes it too easy :D BUT Stiles doesn't know everything hell even the HALES don't know everything! do you think Harry's too over the top? Or is his reaction just right for the world they're living in? R&R please


	6. Chapter 6

Is This The World We Created 

Chapter 6

Stiles stared at Harry aghast, kill Scott? Human or a Werewolf? The words echoed around his mind, on a repeat loop. The silence in the room was worse than when Harry found out that Chris was an Argent and that he had unknowingly been harbouring a damn hunter in his sanctuary. Stiles reckoned he knew the answers the others would give, without so much as a pause to think on it. Stiles though…Stiles had known both human Scott and the werewolf he became. 

“But why if hypothetically he’s human…he won’t know about the supernatural,” Stiles blurted out, his magnificent mind able to do well under strain, but the fact this was all hypothetical helped immensely, if say, he had been standing in front of a human Scott after time-travelling back to the past, he wasn’t sure if he’d actually be able to do anything. “He won’t have done anything, he wouldn’t deserve what you would dole out.” The punishment wouldn’t fit the crime, especially if Scott hadn’t done anything yet. 

“Because they won’t risk history repeating itself,” Peter was able to deduce, speaking in a clinical cool aloof tone. 

Harry nodded curtly. 

“But without me taking him into the woods…” Stiles begun to protest. 

“It’s not easy to change the past,” Harry said, with knowledge and intelligence wise beyond his years, “There are…some things that always seem destined to happen regardless of the actions you take to prevent it. Mostly because its not in human nature to give up, they just try another way and obviously you aren’t prepared for that way due to the fact you had stopped one way and assumed you’d changed the future and thus everything was going to be fine.” 

Stiles’ mouth snapped shut, realization dawning upon him, Harry had said they’d tried to stop the knowledge of the supernatural world…before. Yet it continued to be revealed, so perhaps he did know what he was talking about. It made sense though, too much sense and it irked him. His warring emotions made him want to crumble, he’d been so strong for so long…doing his best by his pack and Scott’s betrayal. He’d never contemplated this being a possibility, but the mere possibility was making his head and heart hurt. 

Derek wrapped his arms around his overly emotional mate, grounding him, anchoring him as much as he was able. If not for his magical exhaustion…Stiles spark would have been raining havoc on the room such as the sheer emotional turmoil he was experiencing. He wished he could help him, but he couldn’t, he wasn’t the same person he was back then, would he kill Scott? In a heartbeat, human or werewolf to prevent this future he was currently living. He knew the others would, regardless of the old fondness they felt for Scott McCall, but Stiles? Stiles and Scott had been like brothers…and even though Scott had fundamentally caused the death of Stiles father…the idea of killing him, as hypothetical was it was at this minute didn’t sit well with the spark at all. No doubt his beautiful mind had already gone through a dozen ways to kill him, and dozens more in a bid to save him. He’d been there for Stiles through it all, the anger, the rage, the betrayal and gut wrenching and encompassing sadness that was wrapped up in one Scott McCall’s actions. 

Stiles inhaled sharply, redonning his iron clad control, momentarily burrowing his face into Derek’s neck, relishing in the contact and strength that lay in his mate and how he was still so strong after all that had happened to him, to them. The Hales were not quitters, and he was a Hale now, he’d mated Derek, and thus in the eyes of the werewolf law he had married him. His mind replaying everything that happened, “I would do it. For them.” he declared without a single wobble in his voice, steely eyes emerged from Derek and stared Harry down, showing just how serious he was. 

Nobody was surprised by Stiles declaration, warmed yes, but surprised? No. Stiles loyalty was what had ultimately drew the Hales to him like a moth to the flame. His loyalty knew no bounds, he would even risk going back in time, trusting a wizard they did not know in order to accomplish it. His love wasn’t given freely or released freely either, he loved fiercely but once broken…it was gone for good but to break it? One had to do something so utterly despicable to accomplish it. Not even Peter’s attempt to kill Scott had allowed Stiles to write Peter off fully back in the day. 

Harry nodded, green eyes gleaming, but nobody could read him at all, not even his emotions they were tightly confined behind his occlumency barriers. Harry knew what he was asking of Stiles – not that he would be doing the killing actually – and it was no small thing either but he had to know Stiles could live with it. 

“You used the wolf moon ritual I assume?” Marcus asked, eyes gleaming with a vicious sort of pride, this boy…would make a magnificent werewolf. He was practically already a werewolf without the eyes and claws. They couldn’t have picked anyone better for a pack. The association with a hunter did make him less impressed though. “Which means you returned within a month?” 

Peter blinked in surprise, “I wasn’t aware that it was well known,” he admitted, gazing at Marcus shrewdly. “Not amongst Werewolf population of course,” 

“We do have Emissaries,” Marcus pointed out wryly, “My own was raised with the pack, saw us as family, just as his parents had, he’s the fourth generation Emissary.” 

“You are lucky,” Peter admitted, “I did not trust the pack’s emissary at all, and in turn he did the bare necessities for Talia but she didn’t seem to mind. She trusted him with her and the pack’s lives and it ruined us.” 

“Then how is it you successfully found the books that would be required for the Wolf Moon Ritual?” Marcus asked perplexed, Druids hoarded information, they did not freely give away books not even to their own pack. It seemed to be something they’d only taken to do the last five or six decades give or take one. It made training new Emissaries harder, he’d just been lucky enough his families Emissary was more loyal to the pack than the new Druid’s claim for power. 

“With a great deal of difficulty, there wasn’t much in the way of Druid magic in the library or in the Hale vaults,” Peter admitted, and he should know, he’d read everything he could get his hands on and had begun to make copies of everything electronically before the fire. “A lot of the books are found in used bookstores, or Mundane versions of apothecaries New York had many stores that I looked through while I was there. The book in question though, I found through an internet site if you’ll believe.” Shaking his head, still unable to believe his luck all these years later, “Fifty dollars I paid for it,” 

Marcus gaped, “Fifty?” he squeaked, “That books worth over twenty-five hundred thousand!” not that money meant anything to anyone these days, no food, ammunition and medicine were the source of trades and had been for a while now. 

Peter just smirked and gave a nod, he was well aware of that fact. 

“Then it’s a good job Argent didn’t kill your nephew otherwise you wouldn’t have been able to return,” Marcus said, giving Chris Argent a look of disgust. 

Stiles arched a brow, so that’s why he’d used Derek’s blood specifically, he’d always wondered why he’d driven Lydia half-mad to get her to do what he wanted. Why he hadn’t just used someone else’s blood, he’d never gotten a chance to read this book…but considering how Marcus was acting he suspect it wasn’t just expensive but also very rare to boot. Then again he’d assumed Peter was narcissistic enough to only want Hale blood to resurrect himself with. Even after all these years he was still learning new things about Peter and magic. 

“What would have happened if they did?” Isaac asked looking horrified. He wouldn’t have been a werewolf and probably died at the hands of his father, he knew that much. Labelled a runaway or something, his father burying his body and making it seem as though he’d ran away. 

“Eventually the Banshee would have either been driven mad and killed them both, or she would have become a full Banshee early and banished him from her and he would have roamed as a spirit unseen and unheard by anyone other than those that can see death. If he was lucky, someone would have banished him completely, being a bodyless spirit…from what I’ve heard is not fun, its agonisingly painful, like drowning for a decades, breathing but feeling like you can’t…” Harry informed them bluntly, “That’s if werewolf’s magic is similar enough that they could exist as a spirit.” 

Isaac and Liam gulped, Chris remained stoic, Peter grimaced and Derek and Stiles both winced it wasn’t quite a pleasant thought at all. So much could have gone wrong, they really hadn’t considered the alternative of how things could have gone in the early days. Things had been too hectic back then to get the time to think. Cora remained quite impassive, she was good at that, learned not to show her emotions unless she was under extreme duress. 

Stiles got back to the matter at hand, “Derek became the Alpha and needed to create a pack to settle his new instincts.” 

“The three potentials I picked all accepted the bite and all survived the initial change.” Derek imputed, “Inevitably…only one survived to this day.” A pained grimace crossing his features, just remembering what had happened to Erica and Boyd. Their loss still weighed as heavily as if his families deaths did, he changed them, he brought them into this world and inevitably he had failed them as an alpha by being unable to protect them. 

“Despite Scott doing everything in his power to convince them otherwise,” Isaac sighed, brow furrowed, he’d been shocked by Erica, incensed enough to fight Derek over Boyd and well, he hadn’t known about him until later too. 

Derek grimaced, nodding a little conceding the point, he didn’t feel like airing it to Harry, it wasn’t exactly important in the grand scheme of things. 

Harry merely hummed, able to accurately guess as to why Scott McCall would want to stop them becoming more. He was a bit like Remus, who had not been able to accept what he was and made everything worse for himself. If they had published an accurate book about werewolves for werewolves, they’d have had less feral creatures on their hands, but that wouldn’t help the ministry control them now would it? Ever since Newt Scamander made the werewolf registration when he worked in the Ministry it had all gone to hell for the werewolves. Especially with the likes of Umbridge within the ministry of magic. Not that it mattered much. 

“Despite Scott’s actions, Derek still tried to get Scott into his pack, a lot of it was self-preservation, he didn’t want any more hunters in the territory and his actual need for a pack. He thought to kill two birds with one stone, having an Omega in your territory isn’t a good idea.” Stiles informed them, once more speaking for the pack on a whole, as Emissary it wasn’t surprising to anyone there. Emissaries were spokespersons for the packs when they were in another were’s territory. Although, Stiles wasn’t just the emissary, the hierarchy in the pack he was the Alpha mate, and despite Derek not having red eyes, everyone followed him. Even Peter had nothing to say about that. 

“Did he join?” Marcus asked, tone dark just thinking about the damn werewolf who had done the unthinkable. 

Derek swallowed thickly, “I thought he did,” he admitted, tone bitter. 

“Thought? A pack bond will have flared into place, it either did or didn’t,” Marcus pointed out bluntly, making no attempt to dull his sharp edges. This was a born werewolf, it was almost as if the guy had cut off his own instincts. Given what he’d been through though…he couldn’t honestly say he would be surprised if that was the case. 

“They’ve never felt a true genuine pack bond before have they?” Harry asked, staring at Liam and Isaac, watching Peter rub his chest the echoing agony and emptiness getting to him even now. They might be acting like a pack but there was nothing but experience and trust tying these people together. 

“I did, for a bit, but from what I’ve been told…it wasn’t what it was meant to be,” Liam sighed, glancing at Cora, giving away who had told him about pack bonds and the feeling one elicits and receives from it. “I was…bitten by accident, by Scott I don’t know much of what happened during the start of it all, I wasn’t there for it.” 

“An accident? What fell on a banana peel and bit you?” Harry snorted, using a well-used Mundane analogy.

A lot of smothered amusement at that declaration despite the conversation, Peter most of all, who loved that sense of humour.

“Sort of, try biting me while hanging off a building,” Liam corrected him, “It was difficult for me, I had…anger issues which didn’t translate well with new powers and more emotions.” 

“McCall didn’t want to have to train someone, he mostly pawned it off on Stiles when he got the opportunity, thinking just because Stiles got through to him he could do it for anyone that comes along.” Peter sneered, oh how he loathed the ground McCall had trod on. That and he’d been rather enamoured with his latest paramour if he recalled correctly. He hadn’t spent much time around the McCall pack, no more than he needed to scope things out. His death hadn’t brought any satisfaction, not with the sheer mass panic that occurred after he revealed the supernatural world. “I digress, we’ve gotten rather off path have we not?” which was true enough. 

“Erica, Boyd and I had all been told about the potential risks taking the bite, about hunters and being hunted.” Isaac said, “I think Boyd and I were the only ones to take it seriously…Erica….Erica was a little more innocent in the way the world worked.” He confessed, “After Kate Argent was ‘killed’ Gerard Argent came to Beacon Hills, and basically declared open war on werewolves to get revenge for what happened to his daughter.” He knew Chris had done nothing about what his father was doing, and he still didn’t understand it to this day, he was so strong and determined. He knew how it felt to be in the presence of an overbearing father though. 

“We weren’t even safe at school,” Stiles grumbled, “I swear that school is cursed,” eliciting a bark of amusement from Harry, the most genuine one yet. 

Stiles stunned, continued on, “It wasn’t just hunters either, we had a Kanima to contend with and…unbeknown to us a Darach,” 

“A Kanima?” Marcus inhaled sharply, “You encountered such an abomination?” 

Harry cleared his throat, “Do not use that term for anything supernatural except a Darach,” Harry ordered unimpressed, lips pursed, “It’s not easy to accept change, one can go their entire life truly not accepting oneself.” Thinking on Remus, he definitely would have become the Kanima, “And any actions done on the behest of it’s master is not the Kanima’s fault. Did he or she evolve?” 

“He was about to, he was Derek’s first bitten, tried to blackmail my nephew into biting him,” Peter said amused, eyes gleaming wickedly. “Unfortunately, he didn’t know enough about our world to figure it out for a good while, thankfully he was an avid reader and came to understand what it was with help.” 

“But?” Marcus asked, leaning forward eager to hear more, recovering from being reprimanded by Harry in the presence of so many Beta’s and a damn hunter gracefully. 

“But I found the key to emotionally severing his tie to the Kanima and returning him to his true form, young love,” Peter purred eyes gleaming, “His love for the emerging banshee saved his life, or perhaps all of ours?” Kanima’s were indestructible after all. 

“Not before it caused irreparable damage.” Stiles confessed, eyes shadowed, it had been the start of the decline of a lot of things. Going on to explain the damage that Matt had caused including the amount of people at the police station that had paid for it their lives. That they found Matt afterwards, he’d been drowned, later they realized it had to have been Gerard Argent, who had worked with the boy who was stalking his granddaughter and then killed him to take control of the Kanima. “I sometimes wish I had let Derek try to kill him…a lot of people I grew up having babysat me died that day.” Instead he’d played the hero and it cost good people their lives. Good people he had cared very much for, while his best friend worked behind his back with Deaton of all people. 

“Stiles was not only trying to figure out the cause of all the deaths, he knew there was something more to it, but trying to constrain Jackson and find out what he was, who at this point was the Kanima it was a lot to put on a sixteen-year-old kids shoulders along with everything else he had to deal with on top of being a normal high school student. I’m afraid to say we all let him down for what occurred next, not that I had returned yet.” he just knew everything, he was the only one who knew the most about Stiles perhaps except Derek. 

“This was all in less than a month?” Marcus rasped out, mouth agape for a second before he regained control of himself. 

Peter nodded grimly, “Indeed,” 

“The hunters got their hands on you.” Harry sighed, staring at Stiles with a knowing look on his face, leaning back resignedly. 

“During the champion Lacrosse game,” Stiles nodded. 

“Surrounded by Werewolves?” Harry asked doubtfully. 

“I didn’t blame them, they had…other things to deal with, Jackson commit suicide and the lights went out,” Stiles shrugged, “I was taken to the Argent basement…more like thrown down the stairs. I was surprised to see Erica and Boyd there, but I didn’t know how the hell to turn the electricity off and get them down I was beaten up by an old man.” To this day it was still humiliating and he still hated Chris for telling everyone. 

“Hunters need to keep in shape,” Harry explained looking as though he had something horrid stuck under his nose. “The day they stop is the day they retire, which usually means they’re in a body bag.” Hunters didn’t normally live to a ripe old age in order to become frail. 

“This one was riddled with cancer,” Stiles groused. 

“Finishing of the rest of his vendetta before he dies?” Harry assumed. 

“Wrong.” Stiles stated firmly, but it wasn’t surprised that Harry wasn’t assuming what actually happened…nobody expected what Gerard Argent had tired. “I only wish it was the case!” then his best friend wouldn’t have done something despicable. 

“During the attack on the station I overheard information that made me realize Scott had no intention of remaining in my pack.” Derek informed him, eyes flashing blue as he thought about it. “That he was up to something, even I couldn’t have predicted what he was up to, but I should have done.” He was well aware just how blinding puppy love actually was. 

Stiles gave out the dates of when important things happened, right at this moment was the station massacre. It immediately wrote itself out on the board, and Stiles so badly wanted to do that. His fingers twitched just to do as such. He didn’t though, he knew how pissed off he’d get if someone adjusted his boards. Even the pack had known not to touch them.

“We were informed about what happened on the field, and I told Scott and Isaac to meet us at a warehouse where we would deal with the Kanima. Of course, Scott informed the Argents of where they were…” Derek stated eyes gleaming coldly, used yet again. 

“They were ambushed, at that point I was dumped back home, I was only to be a message anyway which I was determined not to be. Lydia came to me begging for my help. Which I gave, I drove my jeep into a bloody building hitting Jackson while Lydia did her thing and before we knew it we had a brand new blue eyed werewolf.” he still hated the fact Jackson had been bitten at all, Derek had been fucking stupid giving him it. “I only found out what had actually happened in there afterwards…” 

“Which was?” Harry asked, a bored look on his face, they were running around giving a straight answer, but with so many people it wasn’t a surprise that it wasn’t a straightforward tale. 

“Derek had been incapacitated with Kanima venom and Scott forced him to bite Gerard Argent, in order to make him a werewolf. He’d intended to kill Derek and come the Alpha and presumably kill everyone else there including his granddaughter…he wouldn’t have wanted it getting out what he was, he’d have a legion of betrayed hunters hunting him down for the rest of his life.” 

That boredom had been wiped from Harry’s face, replaced with incredulity and disbelief. 

It was mirrored on Marcus’ face. 

“Don’t worry though, Scott and Deaton had a plan,” Peter crooned, supernatural blue eyes flaring to life, “He thought giving Mountain ash in cancer capsules would prevent the bite from taking.” 

“Which it did,” Derek added grudgingly, “But it also got rid of his cancer and made him an even bigger threat.” He regretted letting the bastard get away, especially after knowing what he’d done to Stiles. A human boy who had more loyalty and strength in his pinkie than anyone else he knew. 

“He was behind the revelation?” Harry asked, his tone intense. 

“Indirectly, I believe it was one of the hunters he trained that Scott was dealing with, but we cannot be sure,” Peter answered, tense and alert, they didn’t ever mention her name, she’d been the one to kill Noah Stilinski and Stiles…well, Stiles had used his magic to completely blast her to shreds in his fury revealing just how powerful he was for the first time. She hadn’t expected it at all, and they hadn’t been able to do a thing as Noah bled out, and Scott had refused to do a damn thing furious with Stiles for ‘killing’ when he was trying to broker peace. None of which had been captured on camera but the damage had been done for the supernatural world regardless. 

Derek gave over the dates that he had turned Erica, Boyd and Isaac – much to Isaac’s surprise he hadn’t expected him to remember – and then he mentioned the Alpha mark branded onto the door of his home while he, Peter and Isaac had spent what was their summer holidays searching high and low for his missing Beta’s. It made Isaac smile slightly, despite the conversation going on around him. 

“Rumours reached me of a powerful new Hale Alpha building a pack in Beacon Hills, I was…stunned…I thought everyone had died. I immediately set out to return to my home town, I was so close to making contact with Derek before I was captured by the Alpha pack. I was locked in a bank with Vernon Boyd and Erica Reyes who I learned were Derek’s Beta’s.” Cora explained, vividly remembering the feelings she’d experienced when news reached her. 

Harry blinked, “That’s the second time an Alpha pack has been mentioned…I’m going to assume it is as sounds, a pack of Alphas?” 

“Yes, worse still, each of them had killed their Beta’s and Emissaries before joining Deucalion, it was an initiation of sorts, in order to gain entrance.” Peter answered. 

Marcus inhaled sharply, “So the rumours were true,” pained and disgusted, he’d hoped…hoped against all odd that they had just lost their packs to hunters and decided to band together. “I assumed they were nonsense, especially since Deucalion could see.” 

“He’s here?” Stiles asked, his own voice becoming dark and vengeful. He hadn’t had a say in what happened to the damn werewolf, Scott had made the decision for all of them, using information gleaned from Deaton in order to emotionally manipulate Derek at the same time. 

“No, he works on the outside, bringing in as many supernatural’s as he can,” Marcus explained, “He knows of two sanctuaries in America only and has saved many people…something I now believe may be penance for his actions.” Still it didn’t take back his actions. 

“Another thing we can blame on the hunters,” Stiles snorted derisively, “The hunters attended a peace conference with every intention of betraying them. Deucalion was blinded by flashbangs and from what Deucalion believes he said Gerard killed the other hunters who were genuine about the peace conference leaving his own men alive who spread lies of what went down. Deucalion went to Deaton for aid and was told it was permanent. It’s why many hunters are now doing the same thing.” 

“Who is Deaton he’s been mentioned quite a few times in this tale of yours,” Harry asked, this player seemed to be working in the background, moving chess pieces…reminded him too much of Dumbledore from what he’d heard so far. 

Silence followed that statement before Peter sighed resignedly, “Doctor Alan Deaton, a veterinarian, a Druid and more importantly…the old Hale pack’s Emissary.” 

“Wait, your Emissary didn’t join you during the full moons? Didn’t see that something was going on in the territory? Didn’t he have wards up on your property?” Marcus lobbed off his questions in rapid succession, staring blankly at them all, unable to comprehend the sheer scope of how much the Hale family had been let down by their Emissary. 

“Other than my mother and sister…nobody knew who Deaton was,” Derek admitted, “I didn’t find out who he was until after I attacked him thinking he was the Alpha. He tried to convince me not to trust Peter, not that I took much convincing at the time since I believed he was fully functional when he killed my sister and Alpha Laura when she returned to Beacon Hills.” 

“What sort of Emissary was he then?” Marcus asked, staring utterly bewildered. 

“An absent one, Talia trusted him, sought his advice often, but thankfully she didn’t listen to him all the time. Otherwise she would have been at the meeting with Deucalion and perhaps may have lost her life.” Peter informed him, “Deaton was the one who set up the idea for the peace conference, acting as the go between.” 

Harry gave Peter a shrewd look, cocking his head the side asking an unasked question, Peter in turn nodded, yes, he believed Deaton was behind a lot of things. 

“And the wards around your home?” Marcus refused to let it go, acting like a dog with bone. 

“Deaton did not put wards around the Hale mansion,” Peter informed him curtly, hating what they were discussing. 

“Then why the hell would someone as well known as the Hale pack keep him around? He’s not only useless as a Druid but apparently as an Emissary!” Marcus grunted in frustration at not getting an adequate answer. 

There was no reply, Talia Hale was the only possible person to reveal why she’d kept him around, and she was long buried in the ground. 

“Let it go Marcus,” Harry said softly, realizing how much it was irritating and hurting the Hales that Marcus was questioning everything they knew. It was odd that they didn’t realize just how intertwined Emissaries were meant to be in packs. They surely had allies in neighbouring packs and met their own Emissaries during those times and seen how they interacted? Perhaps they hadn’t had anything to do with it? He’d ask Peter later for now…they had to focus on getting everything they need. 

Marcus still confused gave a reluctant nod and settled back down, with just those four words from Harry. Showing once again, despite the fact Marcus was an Alpha…Harry was the head Alpha and was always listened to. 

“It’s too bad Scott succeeded in becoming an Alpha, how different might things have been had he died a feral Omega,” Harry mused thoughtfully, only to hear Peter let out a bark of disgusted laughter. Harry sighed and closed his eyes shaking his head, “He was still pack after what he did?” 

“Scott rationalised what he did, his mom had been endangered, threatened,” Stiles sighed, “I can’t say at the time I might not have done the same thing.” Loud snorts were raised at that proclamation, Stiles would never have done what Scott did, he would have worked out a way to inform everyone else, and protect his father, Stiles wasn’t stupid like Scott had been, he would never have taken Derek’s bodily anatomy from him. “He tried half-heartedly to make amends when he could, not that he believed he’d done anything wrong regardless of what anyone said to him. Scott had to go to summer school, his grades were so bad.” 

Chris closed his eyes, remembering that summer, he’d spent it with Allison in France visiting extended family, and apart from a few hours a day, the supernatural wasn’t mentioned. Oh, how he missed his daughter so fervently, to think Stiles could potentially go back far enough that she might live. Wasn’t the prospect enough? He noticed that nobody had mentioned her, or the things she’d done during that time. 

“Erica and Boyd had decided to leave Beacon Hills and the horror show they could see enfolding before them. They did not want to die for an Alpha that was all but abusive to them.” Peter stated sharply, Derek flinched as if someone had held out a branding upon his arm. He knew he wasn’t the best of alphas and had come to terms with the knowledge he had been abusive, he hadn’t meant to be, and hadn’t always been so. The worst was, even an abused boy couldn’t see the ‘abuse’ being heaped upon him because it had been seen as training. He’d gone the quick and easy route in training them. He’d just been so desperate for them to survive, to keep loving them in the only way he could back then. 

“Abusive?” Marcus growled, eyes flashing red. 

“Oh, don’t get me wrong, he cared for them very much, in a way only Derek could, but after losing his family, without therapy, without telling anyone what happened Derek became emotionally closed off, didn’t understand other people and didn’t want to trust humans as far as he could throw them. When news reached him of the Alpha pack, he trained them the easiest way, which we all know is the bloodiest and most painful, he wanted them to survive, to thrive, he did not wish to lose anyone else. This came at a cost, they did not think he cared, they were unaware of the fact he’d die for them, and so Erica and Boyd made the decision to flee, abandon their Alpha and go find another pack.” Peter explained nonchalantly, he didn’t care for those who abandon pack, cowards and unworthy of the bites, but Peter had of course, not stated as such. Well, not to Derek anyway, Stiles knew though. 

Marcus relaxed fully werewolf society is…extremely different. It can be bloody and violent and horrific even to fellow were’s, they’d seen true recipients of abuse and would never wish it upon anyone…except maybe the hunters. Especially since it wasn’t as easy to kill a werewolf like it was a human, they were able to survive prolonged torture with the lines a human would never be able to endure without breaking. It wasn’t often werewolves abused their own, it was normally hunters. A healthy Beta was a healthy pack bond, and a protector, nearly all Alpha’s wanted their packs to thrive. 

“Not that what happened next helped any,” Cora offered up, she’d seen her brother close himself off farther to her. “He went as far as to drive me away, send me back to the pack in New Mexico.” 

Peter pursed his lips, remembering that, separating them hadn’t been a good idea, he’d been against it. Not that he’d been allowed an opinion of course, untrusted as he had been. Unfortunately, there had been no hope of a proper Hale pack in Beacon Hills again. He had elected to go with them, protect what was left of his family, for Talia, he owed them that much by making them Alpha-less. 

“Erica and Boyd heard what they thought was a pack nearby, unfortunately for them, they weren’t taught that the closest pack was the Satomi pack and they were definitely not near enough to hear calls for pack or that Satomi did not risk her pack by howling from her location. Instead they came upon the Argent hunters, including Allison Argent, who grew quite comfortably into her role as Argent Matriarch that Gerard Argent would be proud of.” Peter informed them, ignoring Chris’ ferocious growl, “She had her reasons! It’s my fault really, I didn’t tell her,” he hissed like a wounded cat. 

Isaac and Liam glanced at each other resignedly, they’d die for each other – at least they think so – but they might be wrong, kill for each other but it didn’t mean they didn’t have arguments. Although they didn’t normally bring Allison up, it was just one of those unspoken agreements they had. Peter though seemed unusually vindictive, it must be the fact the past was being brought up and he didn’t want to be the only ‘bad guy’ so to speak. They’d all had their moments. 

“Enough,” Harry retorted, boring holes into Christopher Argent, “As for you, do not tell me anyone has a reason to hunt and kill werewolves like they’re cattle otherwise I will show you just what it was like, do we understand each other?” a blank shuttered look on his face, eyes gleaming darkly, showing he was very serious about his threat. 

Any anger Chris had over Peter’s words dissipated, giving a single nod, staring at the floor resolutely. He did not want to know exactly what this wizard could do to him. He couldn’t risk the safety they all had, the hated was understandable even if it galled him, he was just lucky that the wizard hadn’t thrown them all out on principle. He was reasonable when his ire wasn’t provoked and Chris would need to remember that. He’d endure the distrust if it kept the others safe. 

Peter took pity and informed Harry of the history behind Alison Argent’s actions, but neither Peter nor Harry were exactly moved by her past. It was one thing to blame Derek for it, but to hurt those two years younger than her…newly turned werewolves who’d done nothing wrong except be bitten was not right. She had hurt all of them in her vendetta and was indirectly the cause of Erica’s death, if the Argent’s hadn’t grabbed them…well, they might not have ended up in the hands of the Alpha pack. Although her death rests directly on Kali who had struck the killing blow.

A lot of the remaining tale was told by Stiles, with Derek chipping in only occasionally. The ritualistic deaths that was happening, along with the looming threat that was the Alpha pack. How Isaac had been captured and tortured, how the Alpha pack too his memories and he was rescued. The animals acting strange, deer jumping out onto the road. How Isaac was nearly kidnapped at the hospital, the ensuring fight and rescue by Derek. The birds flying into the windows of the school during their class. About Morrell and who she really was, and her relation to Deaton, not that they knew this at the time of course.  
How things got worse when his classmates were being sacrificed, how he’d realized that it was ‘Virgins’ being sacrificed. Then the others, how Derek had been under her spell, how he’d been forced to kill Boyd, his own Beta, in their horrific unwilling participant imitating. They’d wanted a Hale to join them, the Hale blood was well known after all, strong and powerful. Derek wasn’t the only werewolf there they wanted though. 

“And during all this, two Druids somehow couldn’t figure that out?” Harry asked dryly, it was pathetic really. He made a mental note to have MACUSA set up a damn division in Beacon Hills if he could get back. “Two Druids and a Darach, sounds like the beginning of a joke.” Pinching the bridge of his nose, but it was no joke, there was no way they hadn’t been able to sense a Darach. They needed someone policing the damn town, this was just an utter disgrace, it seems people didn’t care about the loss of life. The fact she’d used a spell likened to a love potion/Imperius curse enraged him so, everyone could feel it. what had been done to Derek was…disgusting. 

“You gave up your Alpha powers?” Marcus gasped out, once they were told, not sure whether to be horrified or awed that he’d do such a thing especially for a sister he hadn’t seen in seven years. It was unheard of that someone just gives up their Alpha powers like that. Circe this was…he couldn’t believe Duke had done this, he’d spoken to him often and nothing of this feral thing existed in the one he knew. 

Harry chuckled dryly, “A last fuck you to the Alpha pack,” they probably wouldn’t be interested in Derek as a Beta. 

Derek just smirked wryly, that thought had crossed his mind at one point, but it was followed by a whole lot of fear. As a Beta he wasn’t as strong as an Alpha he knew he didn’t stand a chance against the Alpha pack then. 

Stiles then gave the dates and times when Chris, Noah and Melissa – Scott’s mother who had not been mentioned until this point – were kidnapped by the Darach to be the final sacrifices how they had negated all the sacrifices in order to save their parents. 

“You did WHAT? He allowed you to do that?” Harry rasped out, pale and shaken, “Do you realize what you done?” Deaton’s death was next on his list, right up at the top, how could someone be so idiotic as to perform that ritual? How the hell had he got his hands on one of those books to begin with? 

“What is it?” Marcus asked alarmed by how shaken Harry was. 

“Believe me, they became well aware of the consequences of their actions,” Peter said sombrely, “Stiles was possessed by a Chaos Demon.” He had realized Stiles wasn’t Stiles almost immediately, he didn’t understand how anyone had been so…ignorant of the fact. 

“Merlin I’m surprised you survived,” Harry said, staring at Stiles as if he couldn’t comprehend his survival. “That was what I sensed in the Nemeton, someone bound a Chaos Demon in a Nemeta? Powering it?” bewildered to the extreme at someone’s idiotic actions, “It was using all it’s power to keep it contained despite being cut down. That’s primarily why it became a death drawer, it needed the power to contain a threat. It was protecting the territory.” He murmured mostly to himself still reeling, “If you had bound yourself to the tree that night all those years ago when it called, your spark would have destroyed it,” the Nemeta would have ensured it. 

Marcus’ mind whirled over what he was hearing, “Circe it’s like Beacon Hills is a hellmouth!” 

“It basically is,” Harry sighed, “But there is nothing to be done about that.” 

“We managed to save our parents, and during that time, the Darach acted during the eclipse and ultimately was convinced to heal Deucalion’s eyes, and Scott convinced Deucalion to stop, he also became a True Alpha.” Stiles explained, waiting for their inevitable reaction, everyone was always overly impressed with Scott’s status. 

Marcus arched a brow, “Huh, so that’s where the Hale Alpha spark went,” 

Derek, Peter, Cora and Stiles froze at that statement, no, it wasn’t possible…was it? Liam, Isaac and Chris just frowned at the words as they digested them. 

“What did that mean?” Peter rasped out, stuck between disbelief and rage. 

“When an Alpha willingly relinquishes his Alpha spark it has to go somewhere…a ritual can direct it to a specific person, of course. Otherwise it probably would have gone to another Hale, after all Cora and Peter were the only remaining others in the pack is that correct?” 

“Yes,” Peter rasped out, claws emerging as he imagined bringing them down across Deaton’s throat and slashing it mercilessly. Scott McCall had received the Hale Alpha spark, that rightfully belonged to him, to his family. He could barely believe it. 

“You mean there’s no such thing as a True Alpha?” Stiles asked, heart sinking, of course, he’d always been sceptical of Deaton but he had never once questioned the possibility of Scott being a True Alpha. 

“A true Alpha is just someone who hasn’t had to kill to acquire the Alpha spark, like Laura Hale, she inherited it.” Harry said dismissively, it happened all the time, it was nothing miraculous. 

“But there was a belief that they emerged on their own,” Liam pointed out confused. 

“Amongst the bitten population no doubt, or those who are only first generation werewolves,” Harry said with patient understanding. Giving the Hales curious looks as to why they hadn’t corrected this misinformation. His eyes widened, realizations dawning, they didn’t know. “Your Emissary is a disgrace to his profession.” 

“Druids of late hoard information, they are not good Emissary’s they are more concerned with balance than their duties. I believe this Deaton is one of the extreme ones.” Marcus admitted shaking his head in distaste.

“Idiotic really, pack’s do not need them the way Druids need packs to garner a bit more power,” Harry said dryly, power, Druids didn’t really have power and do gain a little from the pack though. “Alienating them to the point of no return.” 

“Not that it matters, some betrayed us in the end,” Marcus scowled, red eyes glowing ominous and dangerously. 

“I can’t believe this,” Stiles muttered to himself, why hadn’t he looked up information on True Alpha’s when Scott became one? How could he have been so lax as to let this happen? Let real information slip by him? Be manipulated by Deaton? “Did Deaton need to be nearby to perform the ritual? Did he need Scott’s consent? Did he know?” he’d thrown the fact he was a ‘True Alpha’ in everyone’s face more than one, surely he didn’t know. He thought he was so special, admittedly he’d thought the same thing even though he’d never let himself be blinded by it. 

“Blood, hair, acknowledgement and taking part in start of the ritual is required but the rest…requires the soon-to-be Alpha, Scott to be near Derek while the Druid finished it, he probably used the Nemeta to accomplish it.” 

Another betrayal by Scott McCall washed over all of them, and despite all of what happened…it still left them reeling. He’d taken part, he had stolen the Hale Alpha spark…he’d known all along what he really was. 

\----------0

The next chapter will probably be a jump, brush over the remaining plot of Teen Wolf getting down to what they actually know of what Scott did to reveal the supernatural world...any ideas on that front? I'm kinda stuck on that...actually wishing to reveal the supernatural world to live in harmony like a deluded brat? OR misguided and unaware of being recorded? considering everything that happened I do wish him to be the bad guy but not because he thought this would happen but because he's an idiot who believed hunters over his own pack or something similar :D R&R please


	7. Chapter 7

Is This The World We Created 

Chapter 7 

Harry stared blindly at the wall, during the last two hours, dozens upon dozens of timeline dates and information had been added to it. He could scarcely believe what the group had been through, it was horrendous really. What’s worse was that it had all gone on under the radar, if MACUSA had known…there would have been no need for all this, the Aurors would have taken care of it. The strain the teens had been under due to the consequences of that ritual they performed, the signs leading up to possession, saving Malia Tate, a girl they later learned was Peter’s daughter…putting her straight into a damn school setting after being in animal form for years! He did not understand that mindset, how anyone could be so idiotic he did not know. 

Honestly, he begun to wonder if the Hales were not feline – seven lives and all – not canine they seem to get out of trouble almost as much as he was able to by sheer dumb luck. Stiles had a very, very difficult time of it, as the strongest and the most danger to him – out of the three – the Chaos demon had chosen him. Slowly driving Stiles insane enough to let him in. Which he had done, to protect Malia apparently. 

It wasn’t a surprise that Derek was the one to figure out Stiles was the Nogitsune, the boy was his mate, and it showed that Scott was very self-absorbed. Even Ron would have figured out there was something wrong with him much sooner. He was impressed that despite everything Stiles was still cognizant enough to actually play a game of chess with the Nogitsune, he had the most wonderful mind Harry had ever encountered. Peter of course, noticed that it was Stiles chess moves and not the Nogitsune apparently. 

That only two of the group died was a miracle in and on itself, truly. Although, he doubted Chris Argent felt that way. It had been his daughter who died, protecting Isaac, who Isaac still loved very much and mourned. Aiden died taking out one of the Oni, leaving behind a devastated twin brother. Then Scott bites the demon – Nogitsune – and Kira stabbed it and thus ended one particular problem. 

The problems however, just kept on coming. Nobody it seemed would let the Hales have a break, or let their enemies actually die. Kate Argent shoots and kidnaps Derek to take him to New Mexico, to perform a ritual, and turned him into a teenager! All for a damn medallion she thought would give her control of herself, the utter idiot. Trusting her again – however unknowingly – after what happened…that must have been a damn kick in the gut, it truly added insult to injury. During that time, over one hundred and seventeen million was stolen from the Hale vault, that amount made him wince in sympathy. Until he realized what it was being used for of course, which made him amend his statement, that truly was the biggest insult to injury. The money was used to hunt down and kill anything supernatural in Beacon Hills, a ‘deadpool’ enacted by a Benefactor. Satomi’s pack were killed, Peter then apparently agrees to help Kate – which made Harry snort derisively there was no way it was a genuine offer – and of course, they unlock the rest of the Deadpool, its curious enough that Malia had been written as a Hale despite nobody knowing her origins except her mother perhaps depending on what Talia wiped from her mind. Meredith was found out to be behind the Benefactor, only for Peter to realize he was the mastermind behind it, unknowingly, it had been something he was thinking about after being set on fire and in excruciating agony. Meredith’s mind had melded with his own, stealing his thoughts, hence how they knew about the money. His money. 

The others believing Peter was betraying them yet again, had handed him off to Eichen House. Harry had closed his eyes in disgust, the hospital just accepted four teenagers bringing in an adult and imprisoned him. What the fucking hell was wrong with Beacon Hills? 

Then there was Theo manipulating everyone, except for Stiles of course, who was smart enough not to trust him. The Dread Doctors, their experiments. Then there was Donovan who attacked Stiles and paid the price, being killed in the process and Scott’s words. Merlin, Harry was utterly disgusted with Scott, he truly didn’t understand why Stiles was so loyal to the piece of shit. Not to forget how your own mother could have you committed, surely she knew about the supernatural world, she had to, her mother and daughter were showing signs of being Banshees. Her powers becoming stronger, the break out. 

How it only took two hours to tell this entire tale was lost on Harry, one bad thing after another kept happening. None more shocking to Harry than the knowledge the Wild Hunt had came to Beacon Hills to wipe out the entire county. That was a big glaring red flag that magic was about to be exposed on a massive scale, it had been their attempt to prevent it, but in the end they’d foiled the Wild Hunt’s plans, and hadn’t that been a shock for the Hale Pack to learn why the Wild Hunt actually really hunted. The knowledge that if they’d let it happen the world wouldn’t be in the state it was, but they hadn’t seen the bigger picture. Why would they? Who really knows of the Wild Hunts? They were the oldest of all gods, the protectors set down by Hecate herself. It didn’t surprise him that Peter managed to get himself out of impossible situations, from Eichen House to the Wild Hunt, his mate couldn’t have been more like him if he tried. 

Then there was everyone banding together to defeat the final threat before the world went to hell. Including Derek, who had left Beacon Hills and his mate behind but returned immediately to help. His selflessness would have been nauseating to Harry if he too wouldn’t have done the same thing however grudgingly. Harry suspected it was more to do with helping Stiles than anything Scott said. After everything Derek had been through, Harry couldn’t blame him, he’d done the same thing, left it all behind. 

“I tried to talk to Scott when I learned he was spending time talking to hunters from Liam,” Stiles admitted, eyes shadowed, boy did he try. “Unfortunately Scott hadn’t really trusted me since Donovan, not really, despite what he says. I didn’t need to be a werewolf to figure out he was lying.” 

“It didn’t help that Stiles had begun spending more time with myself and my nephew,” Peter added, eyes flashing just thinking of Scott McCall, the utter fool, he still couldn’t get over the fact that the brat had worked with Deaton to steal the damn Hale Alpha spark and he’d been bought into it, the lie they’d concocted. 

Harry nodded, Stiles and Derek would have been drawn to each other, both were magical, it had been inevitable really especially once Stiles came of age. 

“Scott wasn’t even listening to me,” Liam admitted, eyes sorrowful, “He was being all so secretive, and pleased with himself, like he was doing something really good. Working with hunters was never a good idea, in the end Stiles suggested Chris as a last resort. He was a hunter, and someone Scott still trusted, if he was willing to listen to anyone it would be him.” 

Harry’s gaze coolly found Chris, waiting for him to speak, which he hadn’t any of since defending his daughter. However, judging by his pinched demeanour, he’d definitely bitten his tongue or cheek to stop himself saying something during the tale. 

“Its true, Liam and Stiles called me about their worries,” Chris replied curtly, as if giving a report to a superior officer. “I didn’t share their concerns immediately, I didn’t think he would be stupid enough to work for hunters again after having to deal with…my sister and father.” He confessed, shaking his head. “However, when I called him, the more he spoke the more alarmed I became. He had somehow been convinced that society should become aware of the supernatural world, that it would only be fair. It would stop what happened to him happening to someone else, and why should they have to hide when they had the ability to make their lives better? He believed he was doing it for the ‘greater good’ as it were. He sounded like a fanatic and I could not get through to him or express how bad an idea it was enough to get through. Ultimately, he said I should have just trusted him and hung up.” 

Harry swallowed thickly, oh, how he hated that term. 

“That is a term that Deaton liked to parrot along with his non-interference spiel.” Peter explained, his lip curling into one of disgust. 

“So was it the hunters or Deaton? Or a combination of both of them? Maybe even working together?” Marcus asked, frowning deeply. 

“Probably both, but I do not think Deaton worked with hunters willingly, not that I ever saw, he did what he had to in order to survive.” Chris admitted, “When I heard Scott’s words and when he refused to answer the phone…I got the first available flight to California, I had to get him to change his mind…but before I got on the plane…it was on the news for everyone to see.” 

“My dad immediately went to Scott, tired to get him to convince everyone it had been a prank, something, anything, he knew what would happen and telling Scott…he might have well been talking to a brick wall.” Stiles croaked, “I found out where my dad had gone, walked in on a damn meeting with Scott and the hunters, I called Peter and Derek to help, and I went to find him just in time to see them shoot him. Scott transformed and roared, Peter and Derek showed up, in the scuffle the camera got broken…it didn’t see what happened next. He was trying to talk the damn hunter down, as if she hadn’t just shot my dad.” Even after all those years it still rendered Stiles broken beyond repair to remember what happened. Worse still with the stolen Hale spark…Peter or Derek would have immediately bitten his dad, just for the off chance of survival. They wouldn’t have questioned Stiles at all, just did as he asked. They always came to his aid no matter what. 

“I was begging with him to bite my dad, to change him, but he refused, he didn’t want to ‘turn anyone against their will’ the fucking bastard.” Stiles spat bitterly, his agony prevalent, “Instead he was reprimanding the hunter as if he’d just punched someone not killed them. I kept begging him to do something, that he was killing my dad if he didn’t do it, that he was a bloody cowardly little shit,” Inhaling sharply, “Nothing worked, he was still arguing with her when my dad’s heart gave out, I ran at her, ready to tear her to pieces if need be. Derek stopped me at least until Peter had disarmed her, he understood the need for revenge like nobody else.” 

Peter smirked, there was nothing kind about it. 

“Scott tried to stop me, can you believe it? She’d just killed my dad and he was defending her, I lost it, my magic exploded out of me and tore her to pieces, she died in excruciating agony. Scott…Scott was shocked to the core, he began immediately blaming me for everything that had happened that afternoon. I would have killed him too then and there if Derek hadn’t gotten me away…he knew I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I killed him. Plus, he knew we had to get out of Beacon Hills, had to run. That the entire town was going to be overrun with hunters, wannabe hunters and human police.” 

“Not that Stiles needed to kill Scott, he was killed a few weeks later, by the looks of it he had been tortured and killed by the hunters he’d helped sell out the supernatural world.” Peter said with vindictiveness. The others had never seen the actual state of Scott McCall’s body, Peter as much as an asshole as he was, didn’t want Stiles to see anyone like that, he’d told them he found Scott and that it wasn’t pretty, that he’d deal with it. That pretty much told them all how bad it was, he was used to those sights, he hadn’t been the left hand for nothing. “If anything it would have been a mercy if Stiles had done the deed.” 

“You’ve disappointed what’s left of the supernatural world there, uh, Peter,” Marcus said wryly, he was disappointed himself, everyone hated McCall, and would gladly slowly tortuously kill him for what he had done. 

“I would have rather got my hands on him myself,” Peter added dryly, giving Marcus a look that spoke volumes to what he’d put Scott through…and it wouldn’t be just a few weeks of torture. 

“How…uh, how long will it take to try the spell?” Stiles asked, regaining his composure, the thought of having his dad back…it was more hope than he’d had in a long time. He’d take it, it’s not like he had a lot else to live for anyway…the world was ending and when it did they would die too. So why not give it a try? If it doesn’t work they’d only be dying early. 

“Give it a few days, we’ll try after you’ve taken another magic replenisher draught,” Harry informed them, a thoughtful look on his face. He glanced at Peter, there was a few things he wished to discuss with his mate at some point. “What we’ve discussed in here…does not get spoken to outside these walls, even with spells is that understood? There are ways to eavesdrop on people that you’ll be largely unfamiliar with,” giving Stiles a pointed look. “Especially about him, try and keep him hidden. I don’t think there’s a single werewolf here that hasn’t encountered hunters once in their lifetime and that was before the world ended.” 

Harry did not want to see how betrayed everyone would feel if they knew he was letting a hunter walk amongst them. 

“If you let it get out…I’ll kill him myself.” 

“I get it,” Stiles said, and he did, he was risking a lot on their group, honestly, he wasn’t sure how the pack would feel if the situation was reversed. Probably deliver the same threats if Peter hadn’t already stuck his claws in the hunters heart immediately upon learning what he was. It was different for them, since they knew Chris, had survived with him for over half a decade. 

“Good,” Harry stated firmly, praying he wasn’t making a big mistake. “Now Marcus will introduce you to everyone and everything. Explain a few things and get you all something to do for this afternoon.” He had to talk to Hermione, decide whether it was worth getting everyone involved with what he had planned and where to take it from there. Not everything of course, just enough for them to realise he’s serious. 

Then he was going to take a well deserved nap. 

\---------0 

“You look like crap, have you had any sleep?” Hermione commented and asked, the second Harry’s face became visible in the mirror. 

“Not much, I’ll have a rest after this,” Harry said waving off her concern, “Do you remember that spell we contemplated in the beginning?” 

Hermione’s brow furrowed, “The Time-travel one?” it was the only other one they actually discussed at great length, all moot since neither could perform the spell. They didn’t have the right kind of magic, and hadn’t met anyone who could harness that much magic in order to cast the spell. 

“Yes, I’ve found a spark that could do it,” Harry confessed, sombrely. 

Hermione’s eyes widened, “That’s why you suggested we all meet up,” things clicking into place easily. 

“Yeah,” Harry sighed, “It’s a risk, and we’re all willing to take it.” they had nothing to lose and everything to gain. 

Hermione remained silent staring at Harry, not sure what to say, what could she say to that. 

A chilling chuckle of, “We’ve nothing left to lose regardless.” 

“It will work,” Hermione declared seriously, “Everything on that does exactly as it’s meant to, I can’t believe you found someone to make the spell work. How many people do you think he’s strong enough to take back?” 

“I’d say three at least, but his powers…surpass even my own…I think,” Harry confessed, although not if he included his MOD powers, which he didn’t. “The less people he takes the farther into the past he will be able to go. I’m thinking limit it to two people.” 

“That’s true,” Hermione agreed, “But six maybe seven years at a push is a lot of time to travel, is he prepared for that?”

“I think he’s prepared to do anything, he lost his father at the beginning of all this, and he has a strong emotional connection to him.” Harry told her, he wished he could say he understood that, but the reality was, he didn’t. He hadn’t had the pleasure of growing up with loving and supporting parents. “If he focuses on that, he’ll get to where he wants to go I have no doubt.” Stiles magic worked fundamentally on wish magic, something that wizards find damn near impossible once they hit puberty. Again all it came down to was the fact both were different kinds of magic. 

Hermione’s eyes gleamed with sadness and a little wetness, she’d lost her own parents getting them to safety. “I know the feeling,” So, this Spark and Harry would go back, prevent the world from being destroyed. 

Harry grimaced, giving her an apologetic look. 

“Okay, I’ll set up a meeting for the leaders only,” Hermione stated, “How long before you perform the spell?” 

“I’ve suggested waiting a few days until he can get another magic replenishing draught to take, it will mean his powers are at full disposal. Waiting any longer would be entirely too risky, especially with the Nemeta draining him in order to survive.” Harry explained, not even giving Hermione a name, just in case anyone tried anything, he didn’t want to risk it. 

“Okay, I’ll set it up for tomorrow afternoon, until then try and get some rest, I’ll get in touch with everyone so they know when to meet. I’ll let you know this evening the exact time.” Hermione told him firmly, she wasn’t about to let him try and do everything himself. He desperately needed some sleep. They might be separated by a world gone mad, but she still cared about him very much. “Get some sleep.” She added sternly. 

“I will, talk later Hermione,” Harry said giving her a weak smile, hand raising to hide a yawn. 

“We will,” Hermione said, her tone softening considerably. “Deactivate!” and with that the mirrors went blank, going back to being exactly that, mirrors. Harry got a glimpse of himself as he stared, shocked by how run down he actually looked, no wonder Hermione was so insistent. 

Harry gave one last look at the paperwork on his desk, before sighing, he really shouldn’t. There was nothing about the ritual that could be changed, he’d already re-read it a million times over the past six years, as if trying to decipher something he knew was already de-coded. Turning he padded towards his sofa and summoned a cover before laying down. 

He was out like a light before his head even properly hit the pillow. 

\---------0

The next thing he knew was two firm knocks, his door, he realized, jerking up, utterly bewildered for a few moments before everything came back to him. He quickly glanced at the time as he waved his hand opening the door, finding that he’d been sleeping soundly for four hours, it certainly helped make him feel rejuvenated. Perhaps he shouldn’t mainline coffee quite so much. 

“Is it alright to come in?” Peter asked, the door wide open, Peter leaning against the doorway, arms crossed with a subtle smirk on his face, enjoying the view. 

“Peter,” Harry murmured, “Sure, have you eaten yet?” 

“It’s not time,” he pointed out and he hadn’t been here long, fortunately, they had firmly memorised the timetable. After going so long without regular meals, they didn’t want to miss any. Derek most definitely didn’t want Stiles missing any either. Although, they’d had a few meals with Harry, the rest of the time you’re supposed to eat in the communal dining room, which by the way was way bigger on the inside than it was on the outside. It reminded him of that series his parents had watched, Dr Who when he was a kid, the Tardis had been bigger on the inside too, he wondered if the show was created by a wizard. 

Harry glanced at his watch again, he was quite correct, it wasn’t for another ten minutes. “Is everything alright?” he asked out of habit when anyone came to his door. 

“Yes,” Peter drawled, giving Harry a curious look, going back to his earlier thoughts, the guy definitely didn’t have much in the way of social interactions. Everyone only came to him with their problems, it was one of the downsides to being a leader he guessed. It was the same with Alpha’s except on the full moon where they actually got to be able to let loose with the rest of the pack. “You don’t happen to have the book Deaton used to steal the Hale Alpha by any chance?”

“Many of the packs brought their books, there’s probably a copy of the book in the library,” Harry mused, “Accio!” his wand hand pointed at the door, waiting for the book he’d summoned to appear. “The library doesn’t just have wizarding magic it has Druidic magic too, it has a whole variety,” there was never the lack of something to read. “Since this is from the library, remember to return it.” it hadn’t been a copy from his own library, he handed the requested book over to Peter. 

“I hate for all my knowledge…that I was ignorant of so much,” Peter admitted darkly, he loathed it. 

“That’s Druids for you,” Harry said simply, it was life, they tried to hoard their knowledge, which had in turn made the Hale pack ignorant in so many ways. “You’re probably not the only pack who was severely let down by their Emissary if they were a Druid.” 

Claws out eyes flashing blue, vowing never again. He’d always thirsted for knowledge, but now? He was like a starving man at a buffet. 

“There’s something else that has to be discussed with your pack,” Harry commented, as food for two people appeared on the table. The House-elves were very good at their job, they knew when he had company that they were to bring up the correct amount. 

“Oh?” Peter asked as they sat down. “Shouldn’t they be here then?” or perhaps it should have been discussed earlier while they were all here. Then again, Harry had been exhausted, and everyone else had been mentally exhausted after revealing all the past horrors they’d endured. The physical labour had been a welcoming distraction, for all of them. 

“You don’t discuss everything with them?” Harry rose a brow, staring at Peter as if silently asking if he thought he was stupid. They hadn’t survived this long without sharing everything with each other, there was no way. 

“Yes,” Peter didn’t even bat an eyelash at the look, but he was amused. 

“I figured as much,” Harry said wryly, secrets could end up coming back to bite you in the ass, especially with the way the world was right now. 

“So, what is it you actually wanted to discuss?” Peter prompted when Harry made no move to discuss whatever it was that he’d determined to ask.

“Who returns with Stiles,” Harry answered, shadowed green eyes, “It will be a lot to live with, know what could have come to pass…knowing what did come to pass and seeing people grow up that you otherwise didn’t get a chance to see.” 

“I assumed you and he would return?” Peter questioned, “Although I would have preferred to have some measure of control over it, but the fact that its happening is more than I hoped.” He’d accepted the loss of his family, same as Derek had, to have them back would be a godsend, but they in turn wouldn’t have the same person in their family. Noah wouldn’t have his little boy, whoever Harry’s family and friends were they wouldn’t find the same wizard in his place. Now apparently one other person would return, Derek probably deserved it least of all, and not in a bad way, Talia would lose her sixteen-year-old son in place with an embittered werewolf that she wouldn’t know how to deal with. It was a very heavy burden to bear, but considering the alternative it made sense. 

“No, I’m the anchor so to speak, the more people Stiles takes the more energy it will cost him, since we’re going so far back…” 

“It’s better to have only the minimum amount to make the spell work,” Peter easily deduced he was next to Stiles one of the smartest in the pack. Although, lately he wasn’t feeling all that smart with the new knowledge of what Deaton and Scott had done and how blind he’d been. 

“Truthfully…after everything you’ve been through you deserve to have that peace.” Harry said softly, eyes gleaming with sympathy and pain. 

“I’d rather know and be prepared than be ignorant,” Peter bit out, and that was the honest truth. 

“Depending on what happens…whether two of us end up in that time or merging with our younger bodies…how would you fare being face to face with Laura? Your niece abandoned you, you killed her, can you honestly say you could be an uncle to her after that? Blaming her for things she wont have done? Will not do if it all goes right?” Harry pointed out solemnly. “Wouldn’t you prefer to know what could happen and live without the nightmares and the horror of what you’ve lived through?” 

“I don’t have much of a choice, it would be…the height of selfishness if I went, Stiles and Derek belong together, they are mates, to send one without the other…” Peter trailed off, it would be wrong on so many levels. Yes, he was a selfish person, he wanted Alpha powers, he didn’t care how he got them. Yet he couldn’t separate them. 

He and Harry were different, they hadn’t mated, hadn’t been through hell together. “Yes, I believe everyone will suggest Derek,” after thinking about it for a bit. 

\-----------0

A/N well, I did warn you that this chapter was going to suck, I never did watch past the Alpha pack and Scott become an Alpha except for the odd episode here and there that my niece was watching so everything I put up there is knowledge from other stories or I've plucked out from the timeline and it definitely isn't up to par, it didn't go the way I wanted it to. I mean I doubt Peter will get close to Harry now! Not when he knows time will be reversed and he won't be going and Harry will meet a very different Peter…but the question is will he? Will it just be Harry, Stiles and Derek or will there be a few others coming courtesy of a very smart Stiles? Or will Peter sneakily bond with Harry in order to ensure he makes the trip? Peter isn't ever going to be an angel, if he can get two things he wants with one go he'd do it 😉


	8. Chapter 8

Is This The World We Created 

Chapter 8 

Harry rubbed his eyes tiredly, sighing in relief when the entire group of sanctuary representatives – leaders – finally, finally left through the Floo network. There had been a whole lot more people than he’d anticipated, every single one of them had brought their seconds with them. It was the most animated he had ever seen them to be fair, as all of them found no reason for the spell not to work. 

“That was something else,” Peter admitted, blue eyes gleaming with merriment. He’d tried to hide and remain unobtrusive during the meeting, having known when it would start. Even had Stiles put a sound dampening and scent remover on him, but apparently that had backfired spectacularly. Harry had known he was there, instead of giving him the boot, he just stared at him in wicked amusement before dragging him out and introducing him to everyone and allowed him to stay. 

“Four hours, half of which was basically repeats of what was already said…” yawning half way through his statement, “What the hell was amusing about it?” 

“They believed you without pause, other than a few nobody required evidence, but I don’t believe it was out of malice…they just wanted complete intellectual proof before getting their hopes up.” Peter pointed out, “Those ‘representatives’ as you called them, they did not have jobs before the world went to hell where they were in charge did they? Except for perhaps Hermione Granger.” He could tell, from the way they listened to his mate. 

“Actually you’re wrong,” Harry said in amusement, giving Peter a look. “They were all rather high up in their chosen fields.” 

Peter frowned, “They certainly didn’t act like it,” he conceded, he didn’t like being wrong at all. “They look to you for leadership,” he stressed out. 

Harry shook his head as he stood, “That’s only because of things that had happened in the past, and who I am.” He explained, flicking his wand, and the paperwork that was strewn all around the table lifted itself up and began to pile itself in the corner of the room. 

“Who you are?” Peter parroted, watching the magical displays, he’d read the creature book and proceeded – along with Stiles – to ask those creatures questions left right and centre. Thankfully they’d been more amused and accommodating than pissed off, especially when it became clear that Peter himself was a creature, who was largely unaware of the magical world. Perhaps it’s the first time someone had bombarded them with questions…or perhaps they were just used to it, Peter hadn’t thought to ask. 

“Do you remember our conversation a few days ago about the ‘terrorist’ that was attacking London?” Harry asked, slumping back down now that everything was tidied away. 

“Yes, I believe you took him out,” Peter answered, he listened, he always listened. 

“The reality is, that the magical world was in the midst of war when I was born, even I’m not sure how many Mundane’s paid the price for the magical world’s war. It isn’t the point I suppose, Albus Dumbledore was the leader of the ‘light’ side and anyone on the opposite was on the ‘dark’ side so to speak. There was a prophecy created, about a boy who would have the power to defeat Voldemort and bring an end to his tyranny. Dumbledore believed it wholly, and found out who it could be, urging those families to go into hiding,” Harry said, a faraway look on his face, “My parents had been on the run with me since I was born, going from safe house to safe house…but they decided they didn’t want to live that way. They didn’t want to raise their son on the run, babies needed stability after all and chose where they wanted to settle down. A little cottage, all that was left was to decide who to harness the spell to. They wanted to go under the Fidelius Charm, which would keep those under it hidden until such time they no longer required it.” 

Peter listened attentively, soaking in all the knowledge he could get from his mate. 

“They chose one of their best friends, Peter Pettigrew, while my godfather Sirius Black played decoy.” Harry went on, unsurprised to see zero comprehension on Peter’s face, the Mundane news probably didn’t concern or alarm them. They were Werewolves, an escaped convict wouldn’t worry them, that’s if it had even gotten broadcast over in America. “Then one week later they were attacked.” 

Peter startled at that, for some reason he hadn’t been expecting it. “What?” had he honestly heard right? 

Harry nodded, “I was fifteen months old when Voldemort attacked…” 

“But you just said the spell would…” Peter protested confused. 

“The spell does work, yes, and cannot be beaten, not by any magic known, but by the secret keeper of the secret to those under the Fidelius Charm…revealing where they were.” Harry explained to Peter, with a grimace. “My parents best friend of ten years, willingly gave them up, unbeknown to all of them, Peter was a Death Eater, he had sided with Voldemort. He gave them a week before he revealed all to Voldemort and left them sitting ducks for the attack on Samhain.” 

Peter was gaping, a disgusted grimace on his face, he did feel a little happiness at the familiar term, Samhain, or as the Mundane call it, Halloween. The pack had loved celebrating that day, him too, when he was younger, but Talia hadn’t cared much for the old ways. Immersing herself and the pack completely in Ordinary traditions. 

“My parents were murdered in that attack, and Voldemort tried to kill me that night. I was hit with an inescapable curse that should have been impossible to survive.” Harry explained wryly, “Instead the curse rebounded on Voldemort and destroyed his body leaving his spirit to flee. Everyone however, believed I had ‘defeated’ him, and by the end of the night everyone was celebrating ‘The-Boy-Who-Lived’ and his miraculous defeat of the Dark Lord Voldemort. Meanwhile I had been sent to the only relatives I had, my Mundane Aunt and Uncle who loathed magic.” 

Peter felt his heart sinking, having a funny feeling where this was going, he had seen too much of the dark side of humanity not to. 

“I grew up not knowing about my magic and being regularly beaten for any displays of accidental magic.” Harry went on to explain, standing up, and moving towards the window staring out of it, “I received my Hogwarts letter when I was eleven-years-old, and by the time I entered the magical world…every single person had grown up knowing my name. Knowing more about me than I did, you see I had been raised believing my parents were unemployed louts who had died in a car crash almost killing me in the process. The reality though…differed, they’d died betrayed and protecting me.” 

Peter swallowed, “I’m sorry,” nobody should have to go through that, especially not a child for being different. 

“Don’t be, it is what it is,” Harry shrugged, turning back to face Peter, face impassive. “Eventually he came back, and once they stopped calling me an attention seeking brat, which was the nicer terms by the way…when it was no longer feasible to deny his return. I was suddenly the chosen one, they all believed that at the age of sixteen I should be the one to defeat him as I had done in the past.” 

Peter felt sick, how could people ask that of a child? “Why didn’t you run? Just leave?” he knew, he just knew his mate had done no such thing. 

“Oh, at that point I had already faced my parents killer four times, when I was eleven, twelve, and fourteen and of course…fifteen.” Harry said waving it off, “At that point, the pressure to do something was strong, I wanted to do it for my friends…for myself, so I could live and more importantly…for revenge. To avenge my parents.” 

Peter nodded, completely understanding, he just wished his niece and nephew had been even slightly like Harry. Unfortunately, it wasn’t their fault, Talia had raised them to be cowards, to run, instead of fighting when it came to the hunters. Or perhaps that was just Laura, maybe that’s just who she was. He didn’t know, he wouldn’t have thought she could do what she did before the fire. He’d assumed she’d be a good Alpha like her mother when the time came. Oh, he was jealous, he wanted Alpha powers of his own of course, but that was beside the point he wouldn’t have hurt Laura or Talia for them. 

“Two years it took to finally kill him, but I did it, I was already famous and revered…it just became worse after all was said and done.” Harry shrugged, “I’m used to it, so that’s why they listen, look to me for answers…they grew up doing it, it’s nothing to do with their own inability to lead.” 

“Do you think we will make it back far enough to prevent the apocalypse?” Peter asked, abruptly changing the subject, he could smell how deeply uncomfortable his mate was with the line of conversation. It was clear he didn’t want things to change between them, and he had no doubt the look on his face hadn’t helped at all with the belief that things would change. 

“Six years is a long way to go isn’t it?” Harry said with a grim smile, his scent changing to sweet relief at the change of conversation and that Peter was back to normal. “Well, nearly seven at this point, but between me and Stiles…definitely. We’re going to go as far back as we possibly can.” 

“And Stiles will still be a spark? He won’t lose his abilities?” Peter questioned, that had been something playing on their minds, his and Stiles, but Stiles would accept the consequences, so long as they could have a normal life. 

“Technically,” Harry said, “I’m afraid I don’t know when his spark was awoken, and depending on how far back we get… but it shouldn’t affect the Stiles in the time we get to. If Stiles ends up in his younger self’s body…well, he might not feel anything at all until it’s awoken. I suggested to him to go straight to the Nemeton, it would unleash the full extent of his spark, so that he isn’t without his magic.” Harry himself shuddered at the prospect. 

“You spoke to him?” Peter asked surprised. 

“Yes, he wanted to study the spell a little more, read up what he could,” Harry explained, “Unfortunately, I didn’t have what he was looking for, but did find a bit about Sparks. For someone self-taught he is amazing.” 

“Agreed,” Peter replied, Stiles was amazing, at one point he’d been envious of that smarts being wasted on McCall and his pathetic pack. Not that his nephew had figured out just how beneficial Stiles would be to his pack when he was an Alpha either. For all Derek’s faults, at least he hadn’t been around Stiles and hadn’t been his so called ‘best friend’ for years before the shit show went down in Beacon Hills. 

“In all seriousness, did you get on with your niece?” Harry asked Peter, from where he was still standing against the wall by the window. 

Peter inhaled sharply, he didn’t like thinking or talking about her at all. “I grew up alongside her, I was a late baby, my siblings were decades older than I was. As unconventional as it was, Laura, Derek and Cora were more my siblings than my actual siblings. Derek and I were extremely close, thick as thieves when we were younger, more so in Derek’s teen years, Talia often took off with Laura to visit packs and bring peace to them. I was often in charge of taking care of my nephew and niece along with Sebastian, their father. There was a few close calls with hunters that bonded us closer together. Laura in her teenage years became quite…cocky, stubborn and determined, all in the wrong way, but she was being raised to the next Hale Alpha, that will have caused some belief that she was better than everyone else. As for your question, no I didn’t think for a second she’d ever do what she did…but considering how they were raised…I shouldn’t have expected anything less.” 

“How they were raised?” Harry asked curiously, moving over to his cabinet and getting them both a drink, plucking an odd coloured ice cube into Peter’s drink from the chilled cabinet filled with ice. “It’s a variety of wolfsbane that’s low in concentration and it’s not dangerous, it will only allow you to enjoy the benefit of the drink. Admittedly not as long as humans remain drunk but enough.” 

Peter accepted the drink, staring at it in disbelief, he’d seen the affects alcohol had on humans, but had never been drunk himself. They metabolised everything too quickly to get any affects. He merely drank sometimes for the taste, and only a few wines were tolerable to his werewolf taste buds. Taking a sip, eyes widening as he forced himself not to cough at the burn, finally after he relaxed back against the sofa sighing, “Talia raised them to run from trouble, from hunters, run and hide, don’t retaliate, don’t fight back.” 

Harry stared blankly at Peter, as if waiting expectantly for the rest of that statement. After all that was the most idiotic thing he’d ever heard, it was for Mundane folk trying to make a citizen’s arrest against a greater foe, not those of the supernatural lifestyle. Running instead of fighting just set up a very, very, bad example, and painted a target that wouldn’t be there otherwise on their back. Not just by other supernatural creatures but hunters too. 

“But surely that was only for the pups?” Harry asked exasperated five minutes later when it was clear Peter wasn’t going to continue. If anything he looked a little lost in his own thoughts, he sighed as he took a seat next to Peter, sipping his own whiskey from his own tumbler. “She honestly couldn’t have been raising the next Hale Alpha to not fight back? That’s just encouraging hunters to think we can get them they wont fight back, we’re safe.” To secure your territory they had to fight, he just didn’t understand this at all. 

“What Talia was teaching Laura…is unknown to me, Laura was taught in secret,” Peter admitted, blinking at the feel of the alcohol, damn, it was stronger than he anticipated. Deciding against drinking it too quickly, having never drank before, he would be like a newbie at drinking for the first time. “Just as Talia was by our parents, gaining Hale Alpha secrets and such.” 

“But there’s no guarantee that only Laura would end up an Alpha, any one of you could have, including her son and daughter…” Harry pointed out brow furrowed. “Hell, you could have ended up an Alpha in your youth, what would your parents have done then?” 

Peter chuffed, sounding just a tad bit bitter, “I know, that was something Talia refused to entertain when I suggested it. As it is, Talia had already undergone her Alpha training before I came on the scene.” how different would things have been had she taught Derek the way things were supposed to be? “It’s not the only mistake she made. I’ve never really understood my own sister either.” 

“Oh?” Harry queried, licking his lips, he loved firewhisky, and it was a good year, he didn’t have much left of it, but what he did, he’d share with Peter. It sounded like he could use it, especially discussing something that was obviously still an unresolved situation. “Would you prefer a butterbeer? It’s got a very low alcohol percentage? I’ve drank it since I was thirteen…” the last thing he wanted to do was make Peter feel taken advantage of. 

“No thank you,” Peter stated, tightening his hold on it, he’d definitely need it for this conversation. One of his biggest qualms he had over what Talia had done…and something he’d never be able to forgive. “I had a daughter,” she’d definitely looked like him and Corinne, silently watching and gauging Harry’s reaction to the news. 

Harry barely blinked at the news, “Had?” he murmured sympathetically. 

“I was unaware of that fact, she ironically enough became a member of the McCall pack of all coincidences,” Peter said dryly, “After spending a decade as a Coyote, she turned back when she was seventeen.” 

Harry’s eyebrows rose in incredulously at the words, “What?” unable to comprehend what he’d just heard. “Why?” what on earth had happened? 

“When I found out about her I realized that I had…no memories of her or her mother. My memories of that point in my life are…blank.” Peter explained, eyes blazing with fury. “I came to the realisation that Talia had not just removed the memories of my daughter but a relationship I had as well. She put my daughter in the care of ordinary people, people who wouldn’t understand if she was a Werewolf or Werecoyote as she actually was.” Peter hissed out, honestly, he was so angry with Talia for that more than anything. 

“Merlin, how…I…” Harry gaped, shaking his head incredulously, it was different with magic, it wasn’t quite as dangerous as being a Were! 

“To make matters worse, Malia’s biological mother wanted her dead so she could have her powers back. She attempted to kill her, at the same time Malia experienced her first shift and harmed her adopted mother and sister, she blamed herself to the day she died, it should never have happened.” Peter admitted bitterly, he’d never been able to be close to her, talk to her, his sordid past made even his own family wary of getting too close. Until the end of the world of course. 

“I’m sorry she did that to you,” Harry said softly, shaking his head, “No offense, but what the fuck was your sister thinking?” 

“I have little doubt she thought she was doing the right thing, and part of me hopes that she removed my memories with my approval…but I sincerely believe I wouldn’t have given it, even with the danger she was in. She would have been better protected by her family, her pack, than with Ordinary people.” Talia might have taken his memories…but she hadn’t changed his personality. “As young as I may have been, I wouldn’t have willingly allowed my child to be taken away.” 

“I get that,” Harry murmured, staring at his glass contemplating the betrayal that Peter no doubt still felt. He knew the worst of it all was the lack of answers, from Laura and from Talia. “Were you able to get any answers from Derek?” 

Sipping on the firewhisky feeling the effects fading, “No, my nephew has never been a big talker, he was always the quiet one. He became even more so after the fire and what I did to his sister. I do not think he has ever truly forgiven me. He trusts me now, yes, understands to an extent what happened but never forgiven. Most of all he just blames himself for everything that happened even my own actions, he believes if the fire hadn’t happened well…none of what followed would have.” 

“He’s not blaming himself for all this?” Harry straightened, staring at Peter in disbelief. 

“My nephew takes on guilt that is not his own to harbour,” Peter said sardonically, as he sipped the drink some more. Born werewolves did not realize what they were missing out on he realized, at least his pack anyway, he wondered if it was something another pack had actually come up with. 

“No offence, but he’s an idiot,” Harry said bluntly. “Unfortunately, victims tend to take the blame for everything that happens around them after one severe case of survival guilt or incident that involves them, very needlessly weighting themselves down with guilt might I add.” 

“Sounds like you know what you’re talking about,” Peter observed, most of his observations come from his scent, which was open tonight, in fact, it had been open all night. He normally had the ability to close off his emotions, and Peter wasn’t about to call attention to the fact he could scent him. 

“Indeed, I’ve had my parents deaths, my godfather’s death used against me,” Harry admitted, sighing resignedly, “All for the ‘greater good’ of course,” his tone bitter. “I learned not to let it affect me in time, hopefully it will be the same for Derek.” 

“He’s learned,” Peter confessed, “Took the end of the world and his mate to make it happen, but it did.” the process started after Derek ‘died’ for the pack before returning fully evolved. That sort of guilt would never truly fade, and he’d always have moments of self-doubt but Stiles would always be there to bully him into seeing it for what it was. The fault lay with the hunters. 

“It’s a good job, this task…isn’t for the weak or someone burdened down,” Harry said seriously, “You do understand what’s going to happen don’t you?” Peter was smart enough to realize it, they all were surely. 

Peter’s eyes flashed in feral yet smug satisfaction, “I do,” every single hunter would be wiped out nationwide, and the magical world would reclaim the Were’s as their own, and presumably police them too, or have them police themselves. They hadn’t exactly came out and said that, but come on, they were gathering locations, hunting families, numbers, from all around the world, from the UK to the USA to Russia all prominent known hunting families not just those on the council. 

Even Chris wasn’t unaware of what would happen, although he reckoned the ex-hunter was in a great deal of denial especially for what it meant for every single hunter out there. 

“Does Derek know?” Harry asked curiously, “Or is it something that should be kept from him until it’s over?” he’d never discussed it, hell, they’d barely scraped the barrel about it tonight, but it was an unspoken agreement, Scott McCall wasn’t the only person – or creature he supposed – that was going to die when they went back in time. 

“He’ll likely understand, a few years ago he would have protested, but he understands the danger now in a way he has never before.” Peter explained, sipping the last of his drink, his entire body buzzing with the alcohol, it was a pleasant feeling all around. One he wasn’t used to, he’d rather like to see his nephew drunk, he had a feeling it would be an experience all around. “Worrying about exposure is different from the reality of it.” even he had not foreseen this sort of devastation, world ending devastation. 

Harry snorted, “You’ve got that right,” he said wryly. Grinning in amusement, but it was a bitter sort of amusement. 

“You said attempts were made to prevent exposure…how and when?” Peter asked, it was something he’d been thinking about for days. 

Harry shook his head, “Futile attempts, we couldn’t find the source of it, so mass mind wiping and preventing the stations from showing it wasn’t working. The videos just kept popping up, it wasn’t until at least a month into the apocalypse that I found out a name, and longer still before I found out about Beacon Hills being the hellmouth behind it.” 

“Ah, I see,” Peter conceded, aware that magic wasn’t a miracle worker, not on a grand scale, but when it came to protecting them? It was definitely a miracle worker on its own. He knew that without Stiles’ magic they wouldn’t have survived this far, there was no doubt. 

“The mass panic was…horrible,” Harry confessed, entire brow furrowing, “I must admit even I wasn’t able to remain calm…although I didn’t quite go as overboard as some.” 

Peter’s eyes glazed over a little as he thought on the first few weeks of the mass hysteria and panic. The news stations, the radio, the internet the madness and fear, the fighting, killing just for the sake of it, it had been awful, but he’d always been a planner, he’d grabbed his to go bag, and everything he’d need and ensured everyone else did too along with Stiles, who had been grieving the loss of his father. Between him and Derek they’d managed to get Stiles in good enough shape to move while allowing him the time to actually grieve his father. Half the population taken out, most of which were probably NOT supernatural anyway, just people suspicious of them and bam. 

It didn’t take long at all for the police, military and every government power to lose control. 

Peter merely nodded, he understood the urge to panic, only his years as the Left Hand had him remaining calm and getting those he cared about out of harms way. Leaving Beacon Hills entirely, which by the way had been a very good idea, the first of the bombs had been dropped on it.

“Where was your daughter found? I’m going to assume at least Derek and Stiles know?” Harry asked, changing the subject again, putting his empty drink glass aside, stretching out, pleasantly buzzed. 

“Stiles was there,” Peter admitted, shifting closer to Harry almost unconsciously, but then not caring when he became consciously aware of it. “He knows where she will be,” but he nonetheless, took the time to confirm where McCall and Stiles had found her, not far from that horrid smashed up red car and the soft toy so beloved by her sister. His description was way too real to be from a photo or someone else’s words. 

“Does anyone know you went there?” Harry asked staring at Peter sombrely. 

“No,” Peter snorted at the thought, he’d still been the ultimate evil back then, one moment from snapping, no doubt they’d all pitted Malia for having such a ‘evil’ father. He had watched over her when he could, there were times where she vividly reminded him of himself. Whether it was nurture versus nature that made her way…she’d never had much of a chance. Talia had screwed her over just as much as him. Although, she had loved her adopted parents, he’d give them that much. They’d loved her as one of their own, and he would have very much liked to thank them for that. unfortunately, the woman who had raised Malia through childhood was dead…and honestly? Peter didn’t want to meet the father, his competition so to speak, for he feared he’d claw him to bits, whether out of jealousy and spite or worse…if he said something even in gest about Malia’s abilities. This guy thought he lost both his kids and wife, only to get his adopted daughter back…but with a massive difference, a girl so feral, that had the ability to turn into an animal – as all Hale’s did – so yeah, who knows what he could be thinking. 

“Uh-huh, brace yourself,” Harry muttered suddenly, flicking his wand and Peter grunted, eyes widening dramatically as the couch began to reorient itself, becoming a bed as apposed to the couch it was just moments prior. “Now that’s better.” Stretching out properly, he hadn’t had a real chance to relax since he got up at five o’clock this morning. 

“If I didn’t know better I would say you were showing off,” Peter said, blue eyes gleaming with amusement as he eyed the wizard in silent contemplation. 

Green eyes met blue, “And how do you know I’m not showing off?” puzzled but amused too. 

“I am a werewolf darlin’,” Peter pointed out, eyes flashing supernatural blue for a second, surprised by the smell of arousal that show got him. Interesting, he wondered if his mate had that reaction every time it happened or if he was special. No way of knowing with Harry’s ability to mask his own feelings, and there we go, the scent disappeared, his mate had evidently figured it out. He barely refrained from pouting, barely. 

Harry laughed, clearly something had given away his feeling on the matter. “I usually have better control over my Occlumens barriers,” he admitted, “Tiredness and the lack of sleep can affect them, mostly due to the fact I meditate at night and it helps replenish them, and strengthen them.” 

Peter made a mental note of the words, as he reached forward, fingers wrapping around Harry’s neck, as he shot in for a passionate albeit short kiss before Harry was wrenching himself away. 

“I don’t think so,” Harry said, pushing Peter away by the shoulders. 

Peter just unrepentantly grinned, not at all ashamed, he got it, why would Harry want to get to know him intimately, before having to start all over again with a different Peter in the past? He allowed himself to be moved marginally, but not too far. 

“I’m not taking advantage of you,” Harry added, much to Peter’s shock and utter delight. 

“And what if I wanted taken advantage of?” Peter practically purred out, eyeing Harry as if he were a piece of meat. His mate wasn’t only smart, powerful but very aesthetically pleasing on the eye. Not that it was looks that truly made them look twice, no it was their scent that normally did it for them. 

Harry snorted at the look, “I almost believe you,” he admitted, green eyes gleaming brightly with mirth. 

“As you should,” Peter declared haughtily, but he didn’t push, he wasn’t sure whether Harry was merely using the ‘advantage off’ to be polite and perhaps a half-truth – it certainly wasn’t a lie - in order to cease all attempts. He instead just tangled Harry’s fingers in his own, and relaxed back down, it was entirely up to Harry now. 

“Truth is I’ve never slept with anyone,” Harry said, shrugging his shoulders dismissively. 

Peter closed his eyes for a second, before they latched onto Harry, “Are you Asexual?” his heart was pounding erratically. Surely, surely, the world wouldn’t give him a mate that did not care for sex, sure he wasn’t promiscuous but bloody hell, he did want to mate with his mate, have them both enjoying it. Not bound to a sexless relationship, his younger self, who hadn’t gone through what he had? It would be a deal breaker, he just knew it. 

“No,” Harry shook his head bemused, “I’ve had my fair share of people I’ve been attracted to, but I don’t trust easily, I couldn’t say whether they would be with me or just for the sake of sleeping with the ‘famous’ Harry Potter and spilling it to the newspapers so I just stayed the hell away.” It had been all women who approached him for a good time too, all of them assuming he was straight. Another reason to avoid it all, the news of him being gay getting out and the never ending stories no. 

His mate was a fucking virgin, Peter gaped at his unbothered, unrepentant and unembarrassed mate lying across from him. Licking his dry lips, he was suddenly hit by the realization that nobody had touched his mate intimately, he’d be the first, to touch, to tease, to mark. That awoke a thrilling possessiveness within him that he hadn’t expected. 

Eyes flashing supernatural blue, Peter lurched forward again, possessively and ardently kissing Harry for all he was worth. Unable to help himself or his wolf’s possessive tendencies, he was going to claim his mate tonight. And if it was killing two birds with one stone…well, that was just sheer happenstance. Really. 

Even if Peter had an ounce of doubt, it was all gone, in the all consuming need to make Harry’s body sing, and his mate’s scent co-mingle with his own. 

Sheer happenstance indeed.

\--------0

There we go so will the next chapter continue immediately following this or another time jump to the ritual? Or I suppose we could have a bit of both if you'd prefer ;) will we see Harry being as cunning as his mate or just aware of what he was up to and deciding to play along ultimately amused? hmmm not bad going got this written out quite quick which is unusual as of late I know sorry! Unfortunately, RL takes precedence :) enjoy the chapter and remember to review!


	9. Chapter 9

Is This The World We Created 

Chapter 9

Peter woke first, remaining perfectly still, judging by the rising run…it was still very early. Given their activities last night…they hadn’t gotten much sleep for hours. A sly wicked grin split across his smug satisfied face. Inhaling sharply, the scent of them had co-mingled leaving a satisfying scent on them both and their surroundings. Everyone would know exactly what they had been doing and that Harry had been thoroughly claimed. 

They’d know he had been thoroughly claimed right back. 

Closing his eyes recalling last night vividly. 

“I’m almost jealous of myself…” Peter mused, as his hands sensuously touched every part of Harry he could. “It’s a novel experience…” how often did one get a chance to be jealous of themselves? Under those layers were an extremely fit body Peter found, wiry muscle, not an ounce of fat to be found, and Peter was going to enjoy thoroughly investigating every angle, all cervices on offer, displayed just for him. By the moon he truly was jealous that another version of himself was going to get to enjoy all this – if his plan failed that is – without truly understanding all that had been sacrificed. 

Noticing for the first time that he had tattoos, in his back, three, two on his shoulders and one in the middle. They were intricately, done, and odd, he’d never seen those kind of tattoos before but suspected two were runes. 

Harry turned to face him, eyes open again, staring incredulously at the werewolf, a snort leaving his lips. “If you say so,” he said dry, a smirk hovering across his features, giving Peter a knowing look. Did the werewolf think he was daft? 

His mate was smart, perhaps a bit too smart, but he wouldn’t have wanted anything less. He’d known what Peter was up to, well, it hadn’t been his sole intention when he’d visited, or his intention at all. It had merely been something he’d been thinking about, at the back of his mind. His desire to go back with them stronger than his self-preservation. Who could blame him? After everything he’d been through he detested the loss of control. 

Stretching out, his need to pee winning out against the comfort of remaining in bed. Slowly and carefully sliding out of bed, he made his way to the bathroom, flicking on the light, there wasn’t enough natural light in the bathroom, or any at all actually. 

He just happened to pass the mirror on the wall beside the sink, the sight made him freeze in shocked incredulity. His neck was covered in marks…they looked fresh, how on earth…how had they not disappeared? Using his index finger he popped a claw, and pressed it into his opposite index finger until it bled, the panic he’d just begun to feel assuming his abilities were gone faded as the small wound healed easily. 

Pressing his hands against the hickeys there were dozens, there was no way to hide them…he only had a few of his own tops left, admittedly they were a little worse for wear. They revealed his entire neck and then some…if there was ever a time to regret his clothing choice…it wouldn’t even be now. He couldn’t regret what happened…even if the evidence was on clear display. 

His gaze shifted from his neck to Harry who wandered in, chuckling at the sight of him investigating the marks in the mirror. A wry smirk adorned his face as he went to the toilet, he didn’t seem to care much for privacy, which he admitted wasn’t exactly normal, usually humans hated being watched when they did the toilet. 

“Something funny?” Peter asked, drolly. 

“Nothing,” Harry said in amusement, flushing the toilet before shuffling over to the sink, washing his hands absently. “Want me to remove them?” he could easily do it to his own…but he wasn’t going to. Last night…had been wonderful and he felt more sated and relaxed than he had in years despite the fact he hadn’t gotten as much sleep as normal.

“No,” Peter replied immediately, no he didn’t want them gone as shocking as the sight of them had been. 

“Good,” Harry said, kissing Peter’s chin then lips, “There’s going to be another meeting tonight before we do the ritual tomorrow. Plans made for what to do, who to contact and things like that…” 

“Why? There’s no guarantee you’ll end up in a certain time?” Peter queried, it seemed rather pointless to him. kissing Harry back in return, just a peck, as he desperately needed the toilet. 

“Oh, we’ll be planning for every possibility,” Harry explained, lobbing a bit of toothpaste onto his toothbrush, “You need to remember I wasn’t here when all this started…” before he began brushing his teeth, raiding his cupboard until he found the spare, these were easy to come by, they could and are very frequently copied, with the Geminio spell. 

Peter startled, “You weren’t here?” he asked, that definitely hadn’t come up. “Then why did you end up here?” why come away from friends and familiarity to make his way over here? He didn’t ask how, since he knew they could appear and disappear at will, whenever they liked. Apparation it was apparently called, the ability to Apparate, and not all wizards and witches could successfully do it. 

Harry washed out his mouth with water to get of the taste before answering, “This place belongs to me, during the beginning I was being drawn here…towards you,” he told Peter, “I just didn’t realize it…either that or it was the Nemeton and Stiles as well as you…it could be a whole slew of things really. Either way…I came, I turned this into the USA’s first sanctuary, the rest followed when it became clear we were not going to be able to contain it all we could do as save those we could…somewhere down the line we realized that the world as never going to be the same again…I think a lot of us had our suspicions on the state of the world…” rubbing his jaw tiredly, muffling a yawn. 

“Nobody can expect you to remember each and every single modification in a plan or rather plans you’re coming up with tonight.” Peter muttered out through a mouthful off toothpaste, brushing both sets of teeth and Harry didn’t so much as blink. “It’s at the height of idiocy.” To expect that of anyone actually, even Stiles would struggle to remember dozens of plans, although he’d give it his best. “Are you able to take anything with you?” realization dawning. 

“No idea,” Harry shrugged, “I’m making the contingencies based on possible outcomes.” it wasn’t as though the spell was a tested and true method, it wasn’t. They were taking a chance here, but was it really a chance when they were destined to die if they failed anyway just a little bit later? If they failed, he knew Hermione would come here to look after them and try new methods to extend life on Earth. They weren’t ones built to give in. 

“When’s the meeting? This wasn’t discussed last night.” Peter commented idly as he dried his hand. 

“Same time tonight,” Harry revealed. “It goes without saying we’d meet up again before we attempt this.” They’d been through a war, they knew how it went, it was automatic for them really. 

Peter just conceded the statement with a nod. 

“Do you want your breakfast here, your pack is welcome or would you prefer to return to them for the time being?” Harry asked him as they wandered out of the small bathroom. No doubt they’d spent every waking moment together for the past six years, so he honestly wouldn’t be surprised if Peter needed them. 

A knock on the door interrupted them before Peter could answer. 

Harry made his way over and opened the door, “How’s the pack?” he asked him, “Patricia settling in okay?” remembering her name and what she’d been through, those flashbangs were terrible, terrible things. It was worse yet pain, getting the process reversed, but nobody had said they wished they hadn’t gone through it. Sight was for life…pain was temporarily. 

“They’re well, and yes,” Marcus informed him, giving Peter a nod his amusement clear as day. He hadn’t informed them of the new news, but his wife more than likely suspected, given that he had been spending more time than normal with her and his child, when normally he was always doing hit bit for the community they had, sanctuary that had been hard sought. 

“Did you take back over the patrol detail?” Harry asked him, “Coffee?” he asked both Marcus and Peter, both whom shook their head, no. 

“I’m going to go find my pack, I’ll see you later,” Peter informed Harry, who nodded his understanding. 

“Tell Stiles he’s welcome to read whatever he likes, all this isn’t going to be available to him for quite a while…” Harry said wryly, Stiles he as coming to realise was an avid reader. He’d gotten through seven or eight books if he wasn’t mistaken in the short time he’d been here, while doing the chores he’d been given on a daily basis. 

“Oh, he’ll be back with or without approval,” Peter said grinning in amusement, nothing could stop Stiles when he set his mind to something. 

The looks he received when he entered the tent had him contemplating going back to Harry’s. 

\--------0 

True to Harry’s thoughts, everyone did return, or rather the leaders did, without their seconds. Each of them had a list of plans for each year of the apocalypse. Each one had missives for each of their leaders – The Ministers or the equivalent – for their countries, Italy, Spain, France, USA, UK and so on and so forth so all of them could be alerted to what would become of their communities. 

Most of them written in their own language, the hope that was written across their faces was painful to see. Everyone was desperate for their to be an answer to their hopes and dreams. To see everyone survive, for this not to have happened and been just one horrific dream. 

They were not naïve enough that it might go according to plan. For they made plans for after the ritual had been cast, just in case they were down four people. 

“Marcus will become the Leader of this sanctuary if it all goes wrong,” Harry spoke calmly, “With Alex as his second,” she would be able to educate him on all things magic was capable of. If it all went wrong…hopefully they’d be able to come up with something to save the Earth and the rest of its inhabitant. 

Marcus glanced up, surprise written across his features, he hadn’t expected that. 

“Who is he?” queried Jamie, his sanctuary located in Scotland. 

“She,” Harry corrected him, “Alexandria been here the longest, she knows her magic, and will be able to guide Marcus.” He was hopeful that they wouldn’t need to trudge on without him, that he and Stiles would succeed with Derek and perhaps Peter in the wings. Despite the possibility of failure…he was eager to see if this would succeed or not. 

“Then it is decided,” Jamie agreed, Harry would know best who would run his sanctuary with the same respect he did. 

“I wish you luck with your latest endeavour,” William Smith, his sanctuary in France, giving him a nod of respect. 

“It will be done just after midnight tonight,” Harry commented, it was the best time, when the werewolves and Stiles thus the Nemeton was the strongest. The strongest it was ever going to be, given the damn state of the Earth and what everyone had done to her. It was shocking to think that magic was being stolen from the earth, you would have thought magic would survive everything…but the truth was terrifying. He’d rather die attempting to save the world than lose his magic and slowly suffocate…so you could say what he was doing was selfish. 

“Are you needing anyone on the outside?” Hermione asked, almost too eager to see the ritual in effect, but she knew it wouldn’t be allowed. Harry would rather do this in privacy with only those they needed to see it through. 

“No, nobody else,” Harry declared, “Only those vital to the spell can be there, otherwise it would be moot point. We won’t be able to go far enough back to make a difference.” The more magic that was used…well, it made sense really. 

“Merlin…Harry…I…” Hermione bit her lip, part of her wanted to tell him it was a bad idea, not to do it, to think of another way. Yet another part of her hoped and prayed it would work…if anyone could do it, it would be Harry. His famous Potter luck at work. “Just be careful, watch your pronunciation,” she eventually said, staring at Harry a hint of desperation lurking behind her strong façade. 

Harry understood though, he knew her fears and hopes, they’d been best friends for decades. He gave her a grim smile, and a nod, letting her know he’d take every precaution and care. He wanted this to succeed, they needed this to succeed…their very lives depended on it. “That won’t be a problem,” he’d been repeating the phrases and actions to himself for hours at a time. 

“You take care of him,” Hermione then added, speaking to Peter, lips pursed, “Or I’ll curse you so hard you’ll feel it for years,” 

Peter’s lips twitched, giving a single nod of acceptance of the threat and her request. 

After he nodded, Hermione lit up like a beacon, giving her approval, judging by her scent. 

Harry’s subtle smirk made no bones of his smug satisfaction he was feeling at the moment. 

Jamie cleared his throat, giving Hermione and Harry amused looks. Some things in the world didn’t change. 

\----------0

A/N – Next chapter will focus on the ritual as they're sent back in time 😉 now I've got one chapter to decide whether Peter and Derek get to go and whether they end up in their younger bodies or not … so Teddy…yes or no? R&R please


	10. Chapter 10

Is This The World We Created

Chapter 10

"Why do you need herbs in little bowls? I mean can they do? Are they just ornamental to make it more dramatic? Because it does look more dramatic I have to say," Stiles blathered on, watching Harry intently, as he had done for the past ten minutes, while he set up the 'alter' in preparation for the ritual. "It didn't specify on the paperwork…so, does it do anything?"

Derek and Peter just allowed Stiles to ramble on, it was his way. They were all anxious, there was no denying that. Every single of them was tense in a way they hadn't been since they found sanctuary.

"They'll go on fire during the ritual, it gives greater focus, all herbs have magical qualities. They allow us to do spectacular things with potions, but primarily, they were used in rituals first…before potions were created purely by accident." Harry explained calmly, "These are all important, they're primarily in magical boosters, replenishers, it will give us a little push."

"How can it boost a sparks powers when they're infinite?" Stiles asked, cocking his head to the side. Not even startling when Derek's fingers interlocked with his, giving his hand a squeeze of reassurance and safety. Trying to ground him, be his anchor in these troubling times, just as Stiles had been an anchor for him in all the disquieting times in his life. And there had been a great many.

"Yours isn't right now," Harry pointed out dryly, as he shifted another bowl of fresh ingredients into position "If anything you're less powerful than you've ever been in your life. The Nemeton is draining your magic to try and survive, the potion temporarily boosted your spark, gave it a much needed kick otherwise I believe you would have been in a coma by this…" he didn't say anything else, but all of them suspected Stiles would have already been dead by this point despite everyone's best efforts.

"I half expected there to be a pentagram," Stiles continued, but his voice wasn't as frantic as it had been before Derek took his hand.

"That's a mundane belief," Harry said shaking his head, "Creating one and casting 'spells' does nothing. You cannot gain magic if you're a Mundane…" adding as if suspecting exactly what he would ask next, "Druids may be weak…but they do have some semblance of magic in them." Druids were the lowest on the totem pole when magic was concerned…barely better than a squib.

Stiles wasn't surprised by that comment, he'd yet to see anyone use pentagrams or anything ritualistic where it came to supernatural TV series in reality. Then again, they wouldn't have the real deal would they? He really hoped this worked, the alternative didn't bear thinking about.

Then again they were all going to die if they didn't do this anyway.

Derek scowled, "I just wished we had a specific time and date," mulishly.

Harry glanced up from where he was crouched, "Me too," he confessed, his mind casting back to Teddy, to everyone he'd lost. No doubt, the Hales and Stiles were having similar thoughts, the goodbyes from the pack had left them feeling bereft Harry reckoned. They'd been with each other for over a half decade, doing everything together…so this must be difficult for the other members too.

"Before you do this…can I talk to you, Mr. Potter?" Chris asked, making an appearance. "Privately?" so that nobody else would overhear what he had to say.

Frowning in silent contemplation, "Very well," Harry stated, standing from his crouched position, bowl in hand, he placed it in his position before walking over to Chris, erecting a silencing spell.

"I know...what's going to happen…to the hunters," Chris said, a look of pain crossing his features, not all of them had been bad. "But I beg of you…please, my daughter…my daughter deserves better…anything, anything is better than what you have planned…please, have mercy on her." He didn't care about anything else. If they succeeded in this, he prayed for his daughter above all else. "Let her live, let her live her life."

"But does she though? You stood by and allowed your sister and father into her life despite knowing what and how they were…I want to hear nothing of your denials, the only reason you woke up is because a human spat what they were in your face. A human you were threatening, you hunters don't give a shit about the lives you take, human or supernatural." Harry said raising his hand sensing Chris' protests. He hunched in on himself eventually and nodded, it was true, he had been in deep denial and it had taken Stiles to wake him up. However, he did take offence…until he vividly recalled how he was in the beginning of all this, back in Beacon Hills. How expendable the lives humans had been, not just to him but his father and wife. "You're really no better than those you profess to hunt."

Chris winced, realizing the deep seated hatred Harry harboured would not allow for him to take pity on anyone. He had to try, for Allison's sake, he had to try. "I never wanted my daughter to be part of the hunter community, regardless of my wife's desires. I was never going to allow her to become a huntress or the matriarch of the Argent family…I was so determined of that, the moment I held her in my hands the day she was born." The only child he had, Victoria only had a child to continue on the line, she'd been so very glad she was a girl so she had done her duty without needing to go through it again. Unfortunately, his family and wife had worn him down until he suddenly found his little girl dating a goddamned werewolf of all things.

"Too bad you didn't stick to your guns, couldn't even claim a backbone for your daughter." He sneered, flicking his wand, lowering the silencing spell, stepping back having nothing more to say on the subject. With a huff of disgust, he turned back and round and walked away from the hunter, leaving him devastated.

Derek nodded at Chris, just the once, and Chris closed his eyes tears threatening to overwhelm him. He didn't need to have words spoken, he knew what Derek meant. He would do what he could, for Allison, despite all she'd done to him…he would do what he could and that was a soothing balm to his soul. He just prayed that they went back far enough that Allison was alive. Oh, how he prayed to a deity he didn't believe in that they succeeded.

With that Chris slunk away, not wishing to antagonise Harry further. It was only once he was in the tent, that he hadn't actually specifically said he would be dealing with her like the rest of them…but he also hadn't said he would help her. It was with that hope, he clung to as well.

"It's time," Stiles said, his voice taking on a rich deep timbre, sounding almost bell like.

Harry glanced up at the moon, the last of the cover of clouds were beginning to fade. "It's time," Harry agreed, placing the last bowl at his feet, "Let's begin," and with that Derek, Stiles and Peter entered the 'ritual' dome, as the wolves of the pack ran free under the full moon without fear of being hurt and maimed.

Within seconds Harry messily slashed his own left hand, squeezing it into a fist, hand over the bowl allowing the blood to drop down, murmuring in Latin the entire time, handing over the athame to Peter, beautiful crafted with amethyst stones inlayed into the handle.  
Peter copied what Harry did down to the last move, before he began chanting in Latin, the words coming easily to him, he had already been more than familiar with the language before this. After he was done, he passed the athame over to Derek, the blood gleaming in the moonlight.

Unlike Peter, Derek wasn't good with the English language let alone Latin. He'd been reciting the words all day, both mentally and out loud, but they didn't flow as smooth as Peter or Harry's did, and he hoped that he wasn't screwing anything up. After his own blood joined the load, Stiles went last, and he under then why.

The glow of magic was heavy and thick in the air, every witch, wizard, druid, mage and spark had to now know someone was performing a ritual. There was no hiding it, the very air around them seemed to sparkle with it.

Harry breathed shakily, as he held out the time-turner closing his eyes very briefly, before breaking the glass in half, and allowing the sand to pour out of it and into the blood, he could do this. They could do this. Merlin, he hoped this worked.

Harry then drew a bloody rune on his hand, repeating the process on Derek, Peter and Stiles, shuddering at the immense magic surrounding him. Caressing him, it reminded him so much of Hogwarts that he almost felt as though the school was here, sentient and watching over them.

The open vial containing the phoenix tears, floated through the air, as Peter, Stiles and Derek chanted out the words, before they all clasped hands, their grip tight to the point of pain, having no desire to be parted from one another.  
As they began to chant faster, the vial slowly tipped over, and the phoenix tears dropped into the bowl the last thing they felt was an explosion of magic so strong they were literally blown from one another before darkness creped upon them and then they knew nothing.

\------0

Harry's body twisted and arched painfully, a scream of pure unadulterated agony ripping out of his throat. Writhing in torment, Harry curled up in a ball, gripping his head tightly, time held little meaning, but at some point, he stopped screaming unable to force sound through his ripped and torn vocal cords. Even the slightest vibration caused so much pain that it was unbelievable.

Nothing was heard within Grimmauld Place.

Whimpering quietly, his entire body shaking, he opened his eyes before squeezing them shut, before his mind lost consciousness, as years upon years of memories invaded his mind.

It was the 25th of January 2005 at precisely 4:45PM

\-------0

Ten-year-old Stiles Stilinski laughed as he played video games with his best friend Scott McCall. It quickly trailed off though, as he begun to feel very odd, feeling like he'd forgotten his Adderall for weeks…like he was about to vibrate out of his skin.

"Stiles?" Scott questioned, glancing at his friend, wondering why he had stopped playing. Not at all concerned, it wouldn't be the first time he'd done it, lost in thought as he so often did. He nudged him to bring him out of his thoughts so they could continue playing only for 

Stiles to crumble like a puppet with his strings cut.

The scream Stiles let out had Scott jumping in the air, his heart pounding in terror. "STILES!" scrambling for the phone, he called his mom, desperate for answers.

"MOM! It's Stiles! He's passed out and screaming! Like he's in lots of pain!" Scott shouted down the phone, so utterly terrified that something was wrong with his best friend. He barely heard his mom call out to her friend, before she spoke to Scott again.

"What happened?" she asked her son, hating that there wasn't an adult there with them. Unfortunately, as a single mother she didn't have a lot of other options, or any at all really. Neither did Noah, but they felt a little better knowing their kids weren't alone.

"He just started screaming!" Scott said, breathing panicking, searching around in his pocket for his inhaler, and using it.

"There's an ambulance on the way, just stay calm, can he breathe?" Melissa asked, she could hear the screaming, and god it chilled her to the bone.

"We've alerted the Sherriff,"

"Thank you, Mary," Melissa said, anxiety thrumming through her, goodness, what could be causing Stiles to scream like that? Had her son lied to her about what they were doing? Had they gotten hurt playing? Had Stiles broken a bone? No, her son wouldn't lie about something as important as this.

"The…the ambulance is here," Scott choked out, scrambling for the door, letting the paramedics in to see to his best friend. The game they were playing already forgotten.

By the time they were lifting Stiles onto the stretcher, he had quietened down. The paramedic's quietly alarmed, he didn't seem injured at all. 

Those screams though…well, they'd never heard anything quite like it.

"STILES!" came the shout of Noah Stilinski as he barrelled into the house, breathless and terrified. The siren and lights still flashing on his cruiser, forgetting everything in a bid to get to his son. Thank god he'd been in the area and it had been easy to get to the McCall house once he'd been alerted on the radio.

"We need to get him to the hospital, Sir," came the calm and collected voice of the paramedic.

Noah dumbly nodded, staring at the unconscious face of his son, swallowing thickly. "Go, go, I'll be right behind." Noah said, only remembering Scott because he knew Stiles and the boy were always in each other's pocket. "Turn off everything, quickly." He ordered the boy, not caring he was being curt, he needed to get to the damn hospital, he wanted to know what was wrong with his son.  
Glancing at the time, he pinched his nose, work didn't matter in the face of his son's life. Not for the few hours he had left on duty. 5:11 PM, he would need to get someone to cover for him for what was left of his shift. It was only a few hours anyway.

Noah actually bet the Ambulance to the hospital able to take shortcuts that the ambulance wouldn't be able to get through safely. Getting there to see his son carted through the doors of the hospital.

He despaired at the thought of yet another medical bill, especially while still paying off Claudia's…but the alternative didn't bear thinking about. It just meant taking on more overtime, thankfully he had such an understanding kid. Christ he wanted a drink, badly. He refused to leave his kid though, he wanted answers.

Stiles wasn't the only one who collapsed under mysterious circumstances but since he was at the hospital he had no idea what was   
happening.

\--------0

Derek Hale, flung the ball at the hoop, barely budging when he was rammed into by the opposite teams players. He did grimace a little as the sweat clung to his skin, he unlike the other boys wasn't sweating. It would take a great deal more to get him to work up a sweat. He loathed the scents that clung to his skin, scent that wasn't his pack. Or Kate. His mind was most definitely on Kate, she had said she had a surprise for him tonight, he couldn't wait to see what it was.

To nobody's surprise, the ball went through, Derek was one of the best players on the team. Grinning smugly at the hollers from everyone, his sisters the loudest. The entire team all converged on him, cheering as they were now well in lead, they couldn't lose.

Just as they were all patting him – very manly mind – on the back, Derek's eyes rolled up and he collapsed on the floor. The team tried to prevent his tumble, but they were unable to hold him up.

They cringed and backed away when Derek screamed as though he was being flayed alive.

"DEREK!" Laura called, shoving people out of the way, as she clambered over the seats in a bid to get to her brother as quickly as possible. 

"MOVE!" she hissed, using her not so inconsiderable strength to get them to move. Ignoring all the warnings her mother had given her regarding the fragility of humans.

"DEREK!" Laura crouched down beside her brother, eyes blown wide in fear. Quickly covering his hands, terrified that he would change in front of everyone…by the moon what was happening?

She could hear everyone talking and speculating, she hated it.

Worse, she could hear that an ambulance had been called. Oh, no, this was going to go downhill very, very fast. "He's alright, it's just a seizure, I'll call our mom to come get us." Laura feigned knowing what was wrong, "There's no need to call an ambulance."

"He's just had a seizure, he needs the hospital lass," came the voice of Finstock, the coach. Watching over one of his favourite players, he'd been a coach and teacher for all of a few years, but even he could see how bad off Derek was. He'd rather see him continue the game of course, winning was everything, but he didn't want to see any of his students harmed.

"He doesn't," Laura insisted, "He'll be fine," staring at her brother who had fallen quiet and still wasn't wakening up. "He'll be just fine…" she trailed off, her voice was filled with fear and so it wasn't believed.

It was 6:39 and when Laura called, her mother didn't pick up, too busy trying to stop her own brother seizing.

Laura followed Derek to the hospital, still trying to get in touch with her mother.

Then at 6:59 everyone in the Hale house began to feel weaker, as the mountain ash was coated around their home cutting their senses.

Then at precisely at 7:00 instead of having dinner as planned…surrounding Peter as they were trying to wake him up…firebombs began to rain down upon them imbued with aconite.

It seemed somethings were never destined to change. Then again as Harry said...changing time was more difficult than one could imagine.

\----0

LOL I'd apologise for this cliffie but I'd have to constantly apologise if I did :D So, will the fire still happen and the Hales all but decimated…or will one of them wake up in time to save everyone? Will Laura end up Alpha? How long will she end up Alpha for? What of Scott? Will he still be killed or just closely monitored for the rest of his life? If the Hales survive would Talia even retain her alpha status or will the very healed Nemeton strip it from her? Will Harry arrest her? R&R please


	11. Chapter 11

Is This The World We Created

Chapter 11

Harry blearily blinked open his eyes, yawning tiredly, aching in places he wasn't sure he could ache. Licking his dry lips, man, he was so thirsty, sliding absently out of bed trying to stretch only to yelp in agony, "Ahh, what the fucking hell?" freezing entirely, so that he didn't endure further pain. Breathing out evenly, what had he done last night to cause this?

Flicking his wand, he glanced at the time through half-lidded eyes. Then, and only then, did the memories come rushing back, breath hitching, shock thrumming through him, "Peter!" lurching to his feet, staring at his nightwear, before shrugging, ensuring he still had his wand upon his person, he began to Apparate. The words the pack said, echoing around in his mind about the fire and what they knew that had happened. which pushed Harry in his desire to protect them all. He couldn't believe they'd come that far back…but he'd take it, he'd take it and save them all.

He would need to Apparate at least twenty times before he got to California…given what they'd just done…he wasn't sure he'd get there in time.

And wasn't that a terrifying thought?

Apparating near to the English channel.

Then to France.

Harry continued to hop/Apparate countries technically breaking the law since he didn't go to the Ministries to declare himself.

Spain was his next stop, which caused him to stumble, as his magic began to sputter under the strain.

Refusing to allow it to deter him, he focused on his next spot, Portugal. All the while praying to a damn deity that he didn't believe in, or Hecate that he did, to get there before his mate's body was burnt to hell and the pain drove him into his own mind.

The first of Peter's senses to return was his hearing, and for which he assumed he was having another nightmare. As he heard his niece and nephews, parents, sisters call calling out, screaming, terrified out of their goddamned mind.

"Get the humans up the stairs!" Talia ordered.

"Smoke rises! They'll die quicker if we put them up there!" Sebastian, the Alpha-mate, Talia's mate, protested, grabbing a hold of their very human and vulnerable son. Terror for them coursing through him, his eldest children were out of the house…he was grateful for that, that they were being spared this fate.

"We can't get out!"

"Uncle Peter, help us," Cora choked out, shaking her Uncle Peter vigorously, very sure in her belief that her Uncle Peter could safe them. The sheer terror and fear everyone was experiencing was backflowing on everyone, winding them up further. "Please, help us! Save us!" her claws unsheathed and bit into Peter's chest and arm.

The overwhelming scent of wolfsbane and smoke saturated everything.

Then Peter's eyes snapped open, the blue supernatural hue his teeth morphing as fury took hold.

"Uncle Peter!" Cora cried out, relief barely going undetected under all the fear the entire pack was experiencing.

\-----0

Harry apparated to Morocco, mentally cursing Iceland for not having a designated Apparation spot. Because he would have only had to Apparate twice to get to Peter, instead of the dozen he was having to do. It was too much even for him to Apparate straight from the UK all the way to America, it just could not be done. Apparation was meant for miles in mind, not hundreds of thousand of them. He'd barely landed when he used his magic to transport him to Mali then Sierra Leone.

"Merlin, hold on Peter," Harry whispered, glancing at the time, before tensing as he apparated from Sierra Leone to Brazil, he was getting there…there was only one problem, he didn't know exactly where the Hales lived…just Beacon Hills, now he knew Beacon Hills…but that was decades in the future…the landscape was vastly different right now no doubt.

-0

Stiles blinked groggily, staring at the ceiling, a little fuzzy, frowning in confusion.

"Hey, sweetie, how are you feeling?" Melissa asked, smiling at Stiles.

"Where am I?" Stiles muttered, freezing at the sound of his own voice…a voice that sounded irritatingly and horrifyingly young. "What day is it? Time is it?" panicking, as he sat up in bed.

"Calm down it's only been a few hours," Melissa soothed the worried child, "Your dad is talking to your Doctor they'll be down in a bit."

Stiles swallowed, heart pounding, Melissa was alive! Everyone was alive! They'd done it. A sigh left his lips, his dad was alive, tears prickled at his eyes, that was until he happened to glance at his watch, a watch he hadn't seen in years, it broke after trying to hold Derek up in the pool years and years ago…it didn't just tell the time, it had the date as well…and his heart stopped before speeding up erratically, as his mind automatically connected the dots.

Holy fucking shit.

25th January 2005.

7:00PM.

He knew the importance of that time and date…it was imprinted into his memory…numerous times.

The Hale fire…it had already started.

By 7:45PM the Hale pack would be decimated.

He'd wished to meet Derek's pack, his family, and somehow…his magic had succeeded in allowing it. He could save Derek's pack, his mates pack. So that the horror that he lived with would fade away.

Lurching out of bed, grateful that he still had his own clothes still on, ignoring Melissa calling for him, he couldn't hang around, couldn't wait. Automatically trying to find a phone he did not have, his dad hadn't gotten him one…he was too young. He couldn't call the damn fire department to get them out.

Cursing his short legs, as he bolted, and his lack of stamina, he was already lagging and he wasn't even out of the hospital yet. With a little luck, Derek had remained conscious or Peter…and they were all out but Stiles couldn't risk them not being.

Worse still…he couldn't feel his magic, either he'd completely exhausted it…or he didn't have it yet. He couldn't teleport himself to the Hale house…he was going to have to get there the long way. He didn't have a car! He thought in sheer panic, as he bolted out into the parking lot, he caught sight of his dad's old cruiser.

"Sorry dad!" Stiles muttered, testing the doors, only to find them open, which meant he didn't need to smash the window open at least…scrambling inside, grateful that he had long ago learned how to hotwire a car. Grabbing his dad's lunch, he took the knife, and inserted the knife and yanked the steering column panel off, and uncovering the three lots of wires.

Wires leading to the column-mounted controls on one side, like lights, cruise control, and other indicators. Wires leading to the column controls on the other side, like wipers or seat warmers. Wires leading to the battery, ignition, and starter leading straight up the steering column…he vividly remembered…thank goodness it wasn't a newer car otherwise he'd be screwed.

Claiming the two he'd need, he didn't twist them, just touched them together, watching them spark and whooping as the car started. Revving the engine a few times, he put the car into gear, and just happened to look around as his father emerged from the hospital, the look on his face…to Stiles was utterly comical as he watched him steal his car.

"Sorry," Stiles mouthed, before he took off like a bat out of hell.

Once he was on the move, he grabbed the radio, "This is Deputy Stilinski, I've got a 10-33 at the Hale mansion!" Stiles requested immediate assistance to the Hale mansion, he honestly didn't know the address…but everyone knew where the Hale Mansion was despite not knowing the full address. "There's a 10-82 send the fire department! It's Arson! Send everyone 10-85!" without light and sirens, so they didn't scare the fuckers. He just wished he had a damn phone with a camera, so that he could record them. More proof that the justice system couldn't discard. If they survived the night.

"Stiles is that you?" came through the radio.

"10-1," Stiles tried to sound as gruff as possible, as much like his father…he could not have this written off as a joke. 10-1 meant bad connection, hopefully that's what they would assume on their end too. Unless his father had already called the station…but who the hell knows? He just needed to get to the Hale Mansion. He didn't want to see Peter burn again…didn't want to see Derek lose his family again…or Cora run…no, no he'd save them.

Swerving onto the grass, he made sure he wasn't going to accidentally hurt someone as he avoided the traffic ignoring the horns honking at his actions. Once the block of traffic was behind him, swerving once more, he pressed down on the accelerator and shot off once more on the empty road.

-0

Apparating to Colombia, Costa Rica, Mexico and then blessedly the United States of America. He was in the USA, with only a second to catch his breath, Harry apparated straight to the Nemeton, it was as close to the Hale property that he knew…that wasn't across town. He should have bloody learned the territory of Beacon Hills so he knew the way to the Hales, so he knew exactly how to save them.

They'd never thought for a second though, that they could go back this far… not far enough that they could actually save the Hales. Sure, Peter, Cora and Derek had probably thought about it desperately, desiring it, wishing for it…but there was no way they'd actually expected it.

Harry blinked at the sight of a flush, health-ish looking Nemeton. Whatever had happened…had only recently happened to it. It would be saved, it would thrive, protect Beacon Hills and it's inhabitants. "Show me the way to the Hale house…come on, they're in danger!" Harry pressed his hand against the trunk of the tree, "Expecto Patronum!"

A beautiful white wolf shot out of Harry's wand, it disappeared into the Nemeton, sparking it blue, before it lopped off away, showing Harry the way, the Nemeton was helping after all.

"Thank you," he said, to the sentient being, before he began to run in the direction that the wolf was guiding him in.

The smell of smoke soon began to penetrate his scenes…the fire had already been started…he'd heavily suspected…but to realize it was another thing altogether. Getting a second wind, he ran faster, cursing the fact he didn't think to summon his damn broomstick as he made his way through the darkened night, tripping over roots, and rocks and holes, and marginally nearly ending up in a trap, one he was intimately familiar with. A hunters trap. He should have guessed they'd have them around the damn property.

With a little luck Peter will have gotten them all out and the only thing damaged was the property.

Just as he thought it, a shiver ran up his spine…a familiar one.

Death was nearby.

The Hales were still in that building and Death was just waiting for them.

"Oh, no you don't," Harry hissed under his breath, "They do not belong to you," grunting as he stumbled over a branch ungracefully. He hadn't been so ungraceful in years, and it was humiliating for him, he who was able to navigate successfully in the dark without even a slightest tumble. He was going to have to get re-used to his body again.

The presence dimmed somewhat, clearly hearing him, he hadn't accepted his MOD powers as of yet, he hadn't really until the world ended.

He was ultimately still the Master Of Death, and the Hales would not die on his watch.

The wolf Patronus begun to dim, just as he begun to hear the screams, crying and laughing from the occupants and those surrounding Hale mansion.

-0

Stiles approached the road to the Hale mansion, turning off the lights, screeching as he yanked the steering wheel so that the car would turn without slowing. The smoke was bellowing out of the house, the flames consuming the fragile building.

Then he saw them, all laughing and revelling in the Hales trapped in their home. Stiles knew that this was the basement where the Hales were all trapped. Trapped by the mountain ash that Kate Argent had bloody scattered everywhere. Peter hadn't gotten them out…otherwise they wouldn't be there.

He couldn't see Kate Argent…had she already left? Fury scalded him, finally, finally understanding why Peter had killed them if he was hearing this. Snarling low in his throat, he pressed down on the accelerator fully and the car sped towards them, and Stiles let it happen, the three of them were soon caught under the cruiser, and the cruiser smashed its way into the house.

Coughing spluttering, and with an aching head from where his head hit the steering wheel, Stiles stumbled out of the car. Blindly lurching his hand out, demanding that the mountain ash come to him, to centre in his hand to act as he bid it to. Unable to see his own hand from the dense cloud of smoke surrounding him.

"GET OUT! NOW! GET OUT! THE MOUNTAIN ASH IS GONE! THE POLICE AND FIRE DEPARTMENT ARE COMING!" Stiles hollered, before taking a great big hacking cough, he couldn't breathe…the humans in the pack…it must be the same. "G…get out," his next raspy shout was more a whisper, his lungs straining under the smoke and fire he could feel licking at his spine. He could only imagine what it was doing to the werewolves.

He couldn't venture further in to save them…not without killing himself in the process. He selfishly couldn't bring himself to do that…he couldn't leave Derek alone. It would…destroy him to find he died here, in a way that losing his family hadn't. No, not yet, he had to be able to say he had tried his hardest.

One step in, the feel of the flames so hot made him feel as though he was burning himself. It made sense, because it had completely reduced all the werewolves in the fire to ash, the only things to survive that had been in the house was Peter and Talia's claws.

He was going to have to retreat, tears spilled down his face, from both the defeat and the sting of the smoke. "I'm sorry Der…." He muttered, taking a wobbly step back, "I tried," he had really tried.

Then he felt it and saw it, the smoke in the property dispersing.

Hope began to thrum within him….could it be? Or was it just the air from the hole he'd made in the house with the cruiser?

The sheer liberation he felt almost bowled him over, Harry was here. Then the water actually did…the crisp coolness of it was a relief actually. The water was so powerful…so immense, that Stiles had no chance against it's tide.

He wasn't really surprised to end up in the basement.

"Uh…Hi?" Stiles said after the water dispersed around him, and he fell with a thump on the basement floor. Peter still got burnt it seemed, noticing the wounds, but they were insignificant compared to the last time around.

Harry smirked at him, before focusing entirely on Peter. Cupping Peter's face, he would have offered a potion, but the healing was already finishing up. "You alright?" aware of the trauma and the wounds that had been suddenly yanked back open.

Stiles' eyes roamed around, "We did it," he said, with a giddy laugh, which suited his ten-year-old body a lot more than it would have suited his adult body that was for damn certain.

As one the werewolves all glanced upwards, Stiles was very familiar with that.

"Um…I called the fire department and stole a cruiser…my dad will be on his way," Stiles admitted, before the realisation washed over him, "My dad…" a man he had not seen in such a long time. Grief and unholy glee wrapped itself around him, he didn't care he was going to catch hell for this…his dad was alive. "You might want to put those claws and eyes away," he commented to who he was pretty damn sure was Talia Hale. She looked too much like Laura (or what he'd seen of her dead body and all) and Derek looked a tiny bit like her, they were Hales though…and they all looked alike to some extent.

"Where are they?" Peter snarled, his own eyes flashing blue as he staggered to his feet, well used to pain and fighting through weaknesses, unlike the rest of his very 'peaceful' pack. He knew the arsonists were outside, he'd heard them all…heard Argent again. Three simple words almost had him bowling over in agony, as his lungs protested, the wolfsbane still affecting him.

"I ran three of them down, they won't be going anywhere anytime soon…as for the others…I have no idea, I couldn't spot her," Stiles commented, deliberately not using names, he wanted his damn magic back as soon as possible. The second this was over…he was getting himself to the Nemeton. He felt like he was naked, wounded beyond bearing without his magic.

Peter's lips twitched, of course, Stiles had always been crafty, end of the world or not…he wouldn't be Stiles if he wasn't in the thick of it. With or without his magic, which he was definitely without right now, he could not sense him in a way he had done for the last decade.

Then again, even without his magic Stiles had been lethal.

"STILES!" came the frantic roar of Noah Stilinski as he took in the burnt down house and his crashed cruiser…fear almost rendering Noah frozen, but his training prevented that, as he scrambled towards the burning building. Before he could even get closer, he was snatched around the middle, preventing him from entering the burning building.

"Come on, let the fire department do their job," the Sherriff ordered, succeeding in shifting Noah out of the way, so the fire truck could make it's way closer to the property, it didn't take five minutes for fire fighters to enter the property while two others turned the hose on.

"Let me go!" Noah hissed, he couldn't lose his son, the adrenaline causing him to shake severely.

"Car's empty," came the voice of one of the fire fighters, as he gave the cruiser another once over.

Noah gaped at the words, before his eyes began to roam over the woods that was the Hales garden. Where could he be? He could be anywhere! Hell, he might have hurt his head and wandered off!

"Dad! Dad!" Stiles called out, bolting towards him, it had been so very long since he saw him, spoke to him, touched him, hugged him. He skidded to a halt when Laura's Black Camaro skidded to a halt and Laura jumping out before the car even properly stopped. Derek skidded to a half through the trees, right behind him, an incredulous laugh left Stiles lips, unable to help himself, Derek's bare ass was visible to the world, through the hospital gown he had on.

"Stiles…" Derek said, both of them caught between wanting to go to their families they'd missed so much…or to each other.

A soft smile appeared on Stiles lips, "Go ahead," knowing what each other wanted, they both sheepishly grinned, before Stiles was grabbing his father in a bearhug.

For Derek it wasn't that easy…for he had fourteen relatives he'd lost in the fire…including ten months old Cory Hale, his youngest human cousin. His mother, his father, aunts uncles…great aunt, great uncle and cousins.

A decision easily made when he noticed Laura clutching onto their mother, he ran up to his father, being careful of his little human brother, Sebastian, primarily called Bastian and Derek burrowed his head into his father's neck, and under the stink of smoke, he smelt that all familiar smell that he'd cherished since he was a cub and relaxed fully against his father for the first time in decades. Tears unwittingly ran down his face, unable to believe this miracle…he knew, he knew Stiles was responsible for this second chance.

By the moon his family was alive, he wasn't going to be commanded into running to New York with Laura. They weren't reduced to ash, leaving them unable to bury their entire family….by the moon…they were saved.

It hadn't been their goal…but damn if he wouldn't take this second chance for exactly what it was.

He sensed rather than felt Peter trying to walk passed them, instead of letting him he gripped his shoulder and forced him towards them, bringing him into the family hug. Nobody had any need to know what Peter had done when he was insane. The family was alive and whole.

Time for the slate to be wiped clean entirely.

Except for the hunters of course.

Now they deserved what was about to come.

He, Stiles, Peter and Harry would need to discuss the next move.

He'd almost had a heart attack when Laura told him the date and time. The first young werewolf to have a heart attack at that. she'd been so young…he had suspected it was sometime after the fire…he'd forgotten what Laura was wearing when they'd…no, it wasn't until she mentioned the date and time that he ran home.

Derek felt the tears falling from Peter's eyes onto his neck, just hearing Laura talk.

Despite the sweet relief…It was going to take some getting used to. Their lives had drastically changed within a few waken minutes.

\--------0

Ugh this so did NOT go the way I wanted it too >.< my muse is still primarily on EHTS! Upside I've got a part-time job so yay! but don't worry it shouldn't how often I write...at least I don't think it will...I can get a chapter of EHTS up in 3 hours...or so :) I might delete this and give it a do over unless i like it better after a second read of it...but whats your take on it? R&R please :)


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